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pointofreturn · 2 months

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father pt. 2 (tw)

I didn’t attend his funeral. Mother told me he had to be buried quickly because of Muslim religious traditions—just one of the white lies she convinced me of regarding his death. I still seethe in the bitterness. Lack of closure, sudden goodbyes, and unexplained abandonment scrape at the deepest wounds in me. Father had been in the ground for weeks before we even knew he was gone. Another part of me is glad I was spared the extra pain of the funeral—the shock of his passing was enough to last a lifetime.

I was left with only a handful of his belongings—gold Persian jewelry, birthday and holiday cards with his lean handwriting, a dozen framed photographs, an annotated copy of Oh, The Places You’ll Go, baggy t-shirts that still smell like him after decades. And of course, some remnants from his funeral. Everyone who attended the ceremony wrote me messages in a little black book that I’ve kept carefully hidden away. I don’t read it often, but during my recent move, I pick it back up and feel the full weight of their words, all inscribed in gold ink, for the first time.

He was someone who always made people laugh, a very soulful person. He inspired me with his strength and appetite for knowledge. When he believed something was possible, it was. He will live with my heart forever.

His presence gave light and warmth to everyone around him. I wrote a poem about our friendship, and I refer to him as my genuine sunshine. He made everything as bright as can be. I know now what it means to have ridden upon a star.

Change is powerful but growth is painful. He is not just forcing us to adapt to change without him, but to grow because of him. He was placed here on Earth for a higher cause.

He would always show me pictures of his you and was always so proud. Nothing put a special sparkle in his eyes like talking about you. I hope when you are a bit older and less angry at him you will pick up this book and truly feel what a wonderful person your dad was.

His kind words and inspirational voice helped me live my dreams—that’s what he did, he helped his fellow man realize their dreams. I will forever be in debt to him. Our dreams are now a reality. His intense passion will live on. He will live on. Our conversations about God lets me know he will be waiting for you someday in a better place.

He was blessed to be able to have a piece of himself left within you. You are the light to carry on his torch. Know that your father affected many people and you are destined to do the same. Your light will never die. Strive to be like him. He lives through you every day. Even though he no longer inhabits our physical world, his vibrant and beautiful presence lives in all of us.

On a summer day before 9th grade, Mom and I go to lunch at our Chili’s. She sits across from me in a booth that says it fits four, but only fits two comfortably. I am almost fourteen years old, and I only care about my physical appearance and shrinking the space I exist in. Mom has never been good at hiding emotions; she always wears them on her face. I suspect some kind of “talk” is approaching. I dread it, thinking she is finally going to confront me about the weight loss, the skipped meals, the frequent trips to the bathroom…

Not today.

Nerves tremble in her voice. Her face is somber. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for years. I’ve been carrying this heavy burden with me. And I think it’s time you kno—”

“Hi, welcome to Chili’s!”

The waiter is young, with curly brown hair sticking out from beneath his uniform cap.

“Can I get you ladies started with something today? Drinks? Chips and salsa?” He realizes too late he has intruded at the wrong time, reading our faces with fear and concern on his own.

I know what I’m ordering without looking at the menu. I hand back the dirty plastic, “Diet Coke and a house salad.” I focus on a dent in the laminated wood of the table, avoiding eye contact. “Dressing on the side,” I add in a quick, quiet voice.

Mom orders but I don’t hear what she says, blood pounding in my ears. The waiter leaves relieved, and Mom doesn’t hesitate to pick up where she left off:

“Anyway, like I was saying…”

I can feel the anxiety beaming off her like the summer sun.

“This is something I’ve been wanting to tell you, and I think you’re old enough to have this conversation now.”

I look back at her, masking my fear with a poker face, a skill I’ve mastered after years of practice. “Okay…” I hesitate. “Am I in trouble?”

“Oh no, honey!” Shaking her head, she whispers, “I’m afraid you’re going to be hurt.”

“Hurt by wha—”

The glasses clink down, condensation running onto the table.

“Diet Coke and Unsweetened Iced Tea.” Still misreading the situation, the waiter lingers. “Straws?”

We nod politely as he fumbles with his apron.

What does she mean, hurt? I think to myself.

I feel the urge to bolt out of the restaurant, run through the parking lot, and out to the street where I can leave this life behind. Mom gathers the courage to broach the topic again, wasting no time in getting to the point now.

“It’s about your father,” she confesses, “and what happened to him.” She wrings her hands together, the blood constricting, turning her fingers white. She twists her wedding ring back and forth like a broken clock.

I stare, still hiding my discomfort. I don’t like talking about my father.

Her inhale is dramatic, and the words come out quick and messy: “I know I told you all those years ago that it was an accident. That he died while cleaning one of his guns…”

I stare, cold and unmoving, waiting for the blow to land.

“Honey,” she sobs through a flood of tears. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice gets louder as she tries to speak over her whimpering. You were so young, and I didn’t know how to tell you then or explain what it means or how it happened.” She speeds up, hyperventilating, “I just couldn’t. You were only nine.”

She pauses, inhales again, and says these words:

“Your father killed himself.”

The wall built tall with lies crumbles. The world shatters and solidifies all at once.

I hear the deafening sizzle of Mom’s fajitas, her regular order, and watch the waiter carry the cast iron through the restaurant with a trail of steam following. The smell fills the restaurant. Thunder rumbles outside, shaking the walls.

We stare at each other as the waiter plates the fajitas. A veil of smoke and silence is erected between us.

“How did it really happen?” Emotion drains from my body. I glare at her with icy eyes.

She looks at me with pity. “Well, what I told you isn’t that far off from the truth,” she backtracks. “It was a gun…but he wasn’t cleaning it.” She stops again, her voice breaking. “And it wasn’t an accident.”

My heart and stomach erupt into a burning pit. Sweat accumulates on my forehead and under my arms, even in the blasting air conditioning. My appetite disappears.

Rain falls outside.

Mom takes my hands, forcing eye contact. She now speaks as if she can’t get the words out fast enough.

“I don’t know how it happened. I didn’t think he was suicidal…I had just talked to him before it happened, and everything seemed fine. If I had known, I’d have…”

“Would have what?!” I snatch my hands back. “Obviously, everything wasn’t fine.” I’m snapping, but I don’t care. She’s right, I am hurt despite my aloof efforts.

We sit in silence, unable to communicate in any meaningful way. Instead we’re just two opposing tides of emotion: she, swelling and overwhelming, wanting release and comfort at the same time. And me, a still, undisturbed pool with an earthquake exploding just beneath the surface, desperate to sink into the molten cracks of my own core.

The waiter returns after what feels like an eternity and places the salad with dressing on the side in front of me.

“Okay ladies, that should be everything…Can I get you anything else?”

Neither of us says anything. I stare him down until he leaves.

My mind turns off. I don’t remember what happens for the rest of the day, or the weeks that follow. The searing wound in my heart rips open again, bleeding from the edges.

I think about my father’s last moments often. His family found plane tickets to Florida to see us for Father’s Day. Every year, the haunted holiday comes around. It’s already hard when your father is dead, but I don’t know many others who can say their dad ate a bullet on Father’s Day. I don’t know all the details leading up to his death, but I know he called his best friend to come over, the one who helped open DJ Hut.

Dad shot himself while the person he trusted most was in the other room. When I asked what that was like, his friend said he was honored and grateful Dad wanted him there for his last moments. And of course, he wished he could have done more, known more. I struggled to understand the ability to find gratitude in such an unspeakably awful situation.

No one expected it until it happened. Then, we lined up the pieces to put the whole picture together. 9/11 brought out rampant Islamophobia across America, something I experienced too, even as a child. My father feared walking into the world every day. He became ashamed of his culture, his religion, his appearance, his entire existence. There was an altercation between him and some other guys one night that resulted in him getting injured. He was in Manhattan when the towers fell but was blamed for their destruction. He didn’t feel safe. The blackbirds of death followed him everywhere and he fell into a black void of paranoia.

In hindsight, Mom now knows he struggled with severe mental illness, maybe bipolar or a personality disorder. She said there were times when he was on top of the world, flying too high. What would always follow was the inevitable crash—the lowest of the low, the most irate rage, the emptiest apathy. His moods were unpredictable. But he hid the worst of it from everyone until it was too late. So much of this I also inherited.

Of course, when I was nine and experiencing the first trauma of his death, I had no idea that suicide would later plague my own existence. I felt cursed for so long. At one point, I even welcomed it. Death loomed as the reliable backup plan to escape the suffering that became too painful to bear, too heavy to carry. I had a few unsuccessful half attempts: a dozen shots of tequila in an hour, fistfuls of assorted pills, and a deep, horizontal slice across my left wrist. The scars remain a testament to the deepest darkness of the monster raging inside of me.

I wish I could talk to my dad about what he went through during those last days. I wonder if it was anything like what I went through, what I still go through from time to time. Did he stay up through endless hours of the night, even during the brightest days? Was he trapped in a mind of unceasing commentary, an interior monologue eating his brain alive? Would he hurt himself in other ways, attempting to ease the internal strife with a controlled, exterior pain? How many times did he imagine it before finally pulling the trigger?

Was the final pain relief? Was suicide the way to ultimately control the invisible madness, to quiet the tempest of thoughts? I wonder how alike we really were. I wonder how much of what I went through was predisposed and encoded into my DNA.

I will never have answers to these questions.

#creative nonfiction #creative writing #memoir #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #daddy issues #dead dad club #tw

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aspenmissing · 9 months

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𝚈𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝙵𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 (𝙿𝚝 𝟸)

The next day, Sam is on the phone talking to Bobby, walking past a building holding a box of donuts with Dean following beside him.

"Okay Bobby, keep looking." Sam says, hanging up. They stop walking when they hear music from the Impala.

"What is she doing?" Dean asks. Sam shrugs and the two walk towards it to see Theo lying on the front seat doing air drums to Eye of the Tiger. Dean bangs on the roof of the car and scared Theo. She glares at him before getting out the car, rolling up her sleeve.

"Guys. Look at this." Theo says, showing the scratches on her arm.

"We just talked to Bobby." Sam says, passing Theo the donuts.

"And?" Theo asks, smelling the box of donuts before throwing them back into the car. Dean and Sam look perplexed at Theo ignoring the donuts.

"Um, well, you're not gonna like it." Dean says.

"What?" She asks.

"It's ghost sickness"

"Ghost sickness?" Theo asks.

"Yeah" Sam nods.

"God, no."

"Yeah"

"I don't even know what that is."

"Okay. Some cultures believe that certain spirits can infect the living with a disease, which is why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes." Sam explains.

"Okay, get to the good stuff." Theo says, crossing her arms.

"Symptoms are you get anxious..."

"Yeah." She nods.

"Then scared, then really scared, then your heart gives out. Sound familiar?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, but guys, we haven't seen a ghost in weeks" Theo says.

"Well, I doubt you caught it from a ghost." Sam says "Look, once a spirit infects that first person, Ghost sickness can spread like any sickness through a cough, a handshake, whatever. It's like the flu. Now, Frank O'Brien was the first to die, which means he was probably the first infected. Patient zero."

"Our very own outbreak monkey." Theo says.

"Right." Dean says. "Get this, Frank was in Maumee over the weekend. Softball tournament. Which is where he must have infected the other two victims."

"Where they gamecocks?" She asks.

"Cornjerkers" Theo nods slowly. "So, ghosts infected Frank. He passed it on to the other guys and I got it from his corpse?"

"Right" Sam confirms.

"So now what, I have 48 hours before I go insane and my heart stops?" Theo asks.

"More like 24." Sam corrects.

"Perfect." She says.

"Yeah."

"Well, why me? Why not you two?" Theo asks "I mean, no offense but you two got hit with the spleen juice."

"Yeah, um, you see Bobby, Sam and I have a theory about that too." Dean says. "Turns out all three victims shared a certain, uh, personality type. Frank was a bully. The other two victims, one was a vice principal, the other was a bouncer."

"Okay."

"Basically, they were all dicks" Sam answers.

"So, you're saying I'm a dick?" Theo asks.

"No, no, no. It's not just that." Sam says. "All three victims used fear as a weapon, and now this disease is just returning the favour."

"I don't scare people"

"Theo, all we do is scare people." Dean says.

"Okay, well then, you two are dicks too."

"Apparently, we're not."

"Whatever. How do we stop it?" She asks.

"We gank the ghost that started all this. We do that, the disease should clear up." Dean says.

"You thinking Frank's wife?" Theo asks.

"Who knows why she killed herself, you know?" Sam says. Hey, what are you doing waiting out here, anyway?" Theo looks up at the hotel.

"Our room's on the fourth floor." She replies. Sam and Dean looks, shaking their heads. "It's...it's high"

"I'll see if I can move us down to the first." Dean says. Theo smiles.

"Thanks." She says.

"Sure." Dean says, walking away. Sam climbs in the back seat while Theo opens the driver’s side and gets in, looking slightly embarrassed. She picks up the donuts and opens the box, looking down at them in disgust before handing them back to Sam.

"Now this is embarrassing. " She says, looking outside. "Here's me, someone who fights demons, vampires and murderous clowns and such. Terrified of almost everything." She huffs out a laugh. Sam joins, leaning forward and looking at his sister.

"It's not embarrassing." He says. "Everyone still has fears. Always will have. And besides, it's an illness that is making you scared of everything, not you." Sam says, opening the donut box and eating one. She continues to look around, nodding.

"Yeah. I guess your right" She agrees, yet her eyes the opposite.

In the motel room, Theo sits at a table with a book in front of her. She stares at the wall clock tickling loudly before going back to reading and starts coughing when she sees disturbing images. She begins to have hallucinations of words popping up on the book. Words that a bully or a 'dick' would say. She begins to panic before rubbing her eyes, dropping the book as her vision hazed. The ticking sound soon becomes irritating to her and she looks back at the clock with a death glare.

Sam and Dean comes into the room, seeing the clock now broken on the floor. They then look to Theo, who is on the sofa drinking beer with her feet up on the coffee table.

"Man, did the clock deserve this?" Dean asks jokingly. She ignores him.

"Everything all right?" Sam asks, closing the door.

"Oh,yeah. Just peachy. Find anything?" She asks. Sam places the bag he was carrying on the table and a folder. Dean walks over to the sofa and sits down.

"Yeah, Jessie O'Brien's body was cremated, so I'm pretty sure she is not our ghost." Sam says, sitting down and placing his feet on the table. "Hey, quit picking at that. " He says when Theo begins itching at it again. She doesn't listen and Dean slaps her hand, causing her to glare at him but none the less stop.

"How you feeling?" He asks.

"Awesome." She replies. "It's nice to have my head on the chopping block again. I almost forgot what that feels like."

"Yeah."

"It's freaking delightful." She says, going to take a sip of her beer.

"We'll keep looking" Sam says. Theo begins to cough and sits up.

"You, okay?" Dean asks, patting her back. When she started to choke, he got worried. "Hey!" She placed her beer on the coffee table and shot up from the seat, Dean and Sam following.

"Theo!" They both says. She begins gagging over the sink where she spits out a wood chip. She picks it up and her brothers stand on either side of her, watching her clean the wood chip before holding it up.

"We've been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have, you." Sam says.

"I don't want to be a clue." Theo says sadly, looking at the wood chip.

"The abrasions, this, the disease, it's trying to tell us something." Sam continues.

"Tell us what, wood chips?" Dean asks, gesturing to the wood chip. Theo looks at Sam, also confused as to what he means.

"Exactly" Sam says.

Later that day the Impala pulls up to the abandoned lumber mill. Theo slowly comes to a stop as she looks up at the building apprehensively. The three get out and she looks between her brothers.

"You must think I'm insane if you think I'm going in there" She says.

"We need backup, and you're all we got. You're going in, Theo" Sam says.

"But you are two full grown men. Why do you need me coming in?" She asks. The brothers shake their heads, not answering. She breaths out and bends down to grab her bottle of whiskey, taking a big sip. She shakes her head at the burning sensation of the whiskey. "Alright. Let's do this." She stuffs the whiskey back into her jacket pocket and walking around to open the boot. She looks up at the building before back to her brothers, smiling nervously "It is a little spooky, isn't it?" Sam and Dean give her a look as she opens it. The brothers pick up guns, Dean handing her one. She holds her hands up. "Oh, I'm not carrying that."

"Why?" Dean asks. Theo looks between them.

"It could go off." She replies. She picks up a flashlight, holding it with both hands and close to her chest, smiling. "I'll man the flashlight." Dean and Sam share a look, huffing laughs.

"You do that." Sam replies. Theo smiles and turns around to face the mill. The enter the lumber mill and the EMF meter starts going of straight away. Theo looks down at it.

"EMF's not gonna work with me around, is it?" She asks.

"You don't say." Sam answers, sarcastically. "Come on" They begin to walk again only for something to catch his eye "Wait..." He startles Theo. Sam bends down to the floor, Dean and Theo following, and picks up a ring. ""To Frank. Love, Jessie." Frank O'Brien's ring."

"What the hell was Frank doing here?" Dean asks.

"No idea." Sam answers. They continue to walk through the mill until they come to a room full of lockers, where they hear rustling. Sam puts a hand on the locker with the rustling and whispers a count of three before opening the locker. A cat meows and jump out, causing Theo to let out a high-pitched scream of terror.

"That was scary!" She says, trying to laugh it off. Sam and Dean look at her before walking of. She stares after them scared "Wait." The three walks into an office looking room, the brothers holding their shotguns up high while Theo walking in the back with her flashlight tightly held. Something catches her eye and she walks over while Sam picks up an ID card.

"Luther Garland." He says showing Dean, who is stood beside him. Theo curiously walks over to a table to see a drawing of a woman.

"Hey, this is uh..." She trails off while opening up a missing poster of a similar looking woman "this is Frank's wife."

"Plot thickens" Dean says as he and Sam walk over to her.

"Yeah, but into what?" She asks. Theo tears off the drawing, and instantly the machines in the mill turns on. She jumps back, gasping. Theo scans her flashlight over the room to where she does a double take after seeing something in the corner. Her face drops when she sees the man standing facing the corner, still. Sam and Dean see her expression and turn around to follow her gaze, to which they also get started at the uninvited guest and raise their shotguns high. The two walk forwards while Theo stays back, frightened.

"Hey!" Sam calls out to the man. He turns around to face Theo, only to see her running out of the mill. Dean looks back and scoffs.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Dean says. They turn back around to see the man in the corner turn around. He begins to move towards them but is quickly shot by Dean.

Theo sits outside at the boot of the impala, gulping down her whiskey quickly and hastily. Dean and Sam come running up to her, panting. Sam holds up the card of Luther Garland.

"Guess we got the right place." He says.

#supernatural #older sister winchester #oc insert #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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A new servant desperately struggles to understand what exactly Merlin is:

A cryptid? Arthur's boyfriend? Simply a dude? The court jester? Something else entirely? Who knows, certainly not the new guy.

The first time the new kitchen-hand, Tristan, saw The King’s dark-haired servant sprinting down the corridor, he couldn’t tell if the man was laughing or crying.

He was fast, faster than Tristan thought possible for someone whose arms were so full of laundry, but he politely steps out of the way, coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been late for something. At least... he did think that, until he turns the next corner to see three of The king’s most trusted knights peering out of windows and into random doors. Tristan freezes in the corridor, he’d heard that servants were treated extremely well here, but he’d only been employed for a few days and he didn’t want to risk anything by pushing past or addressing his betters.

One of the knights, Sir Leon, his brain helpfully supplies, spots him stood there, and his annoyed frown quickly morphs into a friendly smile:

“Pardon me, sorry, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Merlin around anywhere, have you?”

Tristan’s eyes go wide and the grip he has on his tray tightens, but he forces himself to take a breath and answer, trying his best to keep his voice even:

“Merlin is... The King’s manservant? Tall, with dark hair?”

Another knight pushes forward, he looks to be the oldest, with dark hair falling in an almost deliberately tousled way around his bearded jawline. His charming grin seems just a little too wide to be genuine, but Tristan isn’t quite sure if that’s because he’s about to take pleasure in punishing someone, or if he’s just being polite to a stranger:

“Yeah, yeah that’s him, seen him? Arsehole turned our shirts pink in the wash, and something tells me it was deliberate.”

Tristan gulps at the accusation and he takes a shaky step back, but before he can even think of defending the stranger that he now thinks must’ve been crying, the last of the three knights, a giant, if Tristan believed in such things, steps forward:

“Don’t worry, we won’t beat him too much.”

He says it with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, but once again the kitchen-hand can’t tell if it was cruel or genuine, if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Uh... yeah, he turned left at the end of this corridor, but I didn’t see where he went after that, I apologise.”

Sir Leon waves away his apology with a smile, looking to the long-haired knight with a raised eyebrow:

“The stables?”

The man grins widely, nodding his agreement as he turns his grin to the giant. Sir Leon offers Tristan another soft smile, murmuring his thanks before moving past him, elbowing the other two to prompt them in to thanking him as well. The three of them march down the corridor with almost vindictive smiles on their faces, and Tristan prepares himself to see a vacancy note, or possibly a funeral invite, posted on the notice board by the next morning.

When he passes a window that evening to see the King’s manservant being carried on the giant’s shoulders as five other knights pelt them with gloves, a grin on every face, he decides that... well... it’s probably best to just not to ask.

The next time he sees Merlin, a few days later, The King is also there.

This is the first time Tristan has been in Arthur Pendragon’s presence, and though the other servant’s all rave on about how awkwardly kind he is, he’s a bundle of nerves. Not even Cook’s stories about how often she whacks The King’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when she catches him about to pilfer something stops Tristan’s heart from racing.

The King was overseeing a few of the servants decorate the main hall for a feast, and whilst Tristan is certain that that’s not something The King normally does, he doesn’t question it, just thinks that maybe the other servants had been telling the truth, and he was a genuinely nice, but normal man.

Merlin stands at his side, and though Tristan can’t hear their conversation, the two of them are clearly bickering over something. The servant can’t help his curiosity, wanting desperately to move closer to find out what sort of things The King allows his servant to bicker with him about; luckily, the table right next to them has yet to be laid, so he moves towards it quickly. He doesn’t even glance at them, terrified of being caught out, but perhaps Merlin surviving the knights non-wrath the other day is encouraging him, and his steps don’t falter. Their words come in to focus, and he has to stop the confused, and slightly horrified, frown from spreading across his face:

“Arthur, I swear to the Gods, if you make me wear that hat again, I’ll piss in your wine and serve it to you in front of a crowd.”

The King scoffs just as Tristan shakily begins laying down the cutlery:

“That’s treason, Merlin.”

“Do I look like I care? Not only will I piss in your wine, I will not hesitate to push you over a balcony at the first opportunity. This hall is high up and it’s a long way down to the gardens. He drank toxic wine and turned loopy and tipped himself off a balcony and went splat! That’s what people will say. I’m not wearing the Godamn hat.”

Tristan has to focus extra carefully to stop himself from gasping; Merlin just threatened to kill The King... that’s got to be a death sentence. Pissing off some knights that he’s obviously friendly with is one thing, but threatening to kill The-

“Ha ha. Very funny. If you can’t tell, Merlin, I’m being sarcastic, I know you struggle with complex concepts like that.”

Merlin just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he says with no hesitation:

“My mind is more than capable of coping, My Lord, it’s your belt I worry about being able to cope nowadays.”

Tristan bites his tongue to stop himself from yelping and turns away so neither of them can see his horrified face. The King just makes an outraged noise in the back of his throat, and Tristan can hear Merlin snort in laughter at whatever expression Arthur was wearing to match such a noise:

“Go to the stocks. I want you there for three hours.”

Tristan lets out a confused breath; Merlin threatens to kill The King, and gets playful sarcasm, but he implies The King might be a tad overweight, and gets sent to the stocks for three hours? How is that-

“Yeah... no. Not happening. The feast starts in less than two hours and I still have to help Guinevere organise some stuff in the courtyard, do Gaius’ rounds for him, then put an extra hole in your belt and help you get dressed because, despite being a grown man, you’re still an idiot who’s incapable of putting clothes on in any sort of decent manner.”

Tristan finds himself relaxing a little. This seems to be the norm for them, but surely... surely The King had a line somewhere, and a servant just flat out refusing to be disciplined must be where it lies?

Arthur just scoffs, and Tristan angles his head in such a way that he can see him roll his eyes:

“Fuck off.”

Merlin grins, seeming to cast a suspicious gaze over the room to make sure no one was watching and somehow completely missing Tristan stood just there, before saying quietly:

“You love me really, you prat.”

With that, Merlin reaches up to yank at a lock of The King’s hair before hurrying off in the direction of the courtyard before Arthur can react. The King jumps slightly, clearly caught by surprise as an annoyed flush rises on his face, but Tristan just frowns in confusion when his shock gives way to a softly amused smile.

Huh.

The next few times Tristan saw Merlin made him fear for the servant’s safety. He was being taken on hunts by The King and his knights, that’s meant to be for squires, to learn the ropes and gain experience in tracking and riding.

He supposes it isn’t entirely unheard of for a servant to follow their master on a hunt, but with the way Merlin complains without pause, and The King in turn complains about his complaining, he thinks it would better for everyone if Merlin just... didn’t go. When he brings it up to another servant, a lovely woman named Guinevere who had helped him get unlost at least three times in his first week, she just laughs and smiles at him pityingly:

“I wouldn’t worry, those two have been like that forever, they’re practically inseparable.”

Tristan responds with a rather intelligent sounding:

“...What?”

Gwen laughs softly again, shaking her head and patting his shoulder consolingly:

“You’ll get used to it, they’re just... like that.”

She gives him one more smile before turning to wave the boys out of the gates and walking back to the castle as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Tristan supposes that it probably is.

The next time Tristan sees Merlin leave the city gates with the knights, Sir Elyan, Sir Mordred, and Sir Lancelot this time, it’s distinctly worse. Because he’d caught sight of the patrol rota last time he ran food down to the training ground, and he was certain that those three had a city patrol right about now.

Before he even has time to gape in shock, he hears Merlin’s pleading voice as he trails Sir Elyan like a lost puppy:

“Please, El, I promise to stay out of the way, I will do anything, but I swear to the Gods if I have to spend one more minute around that prat, I’ll hurl myself from the battlements.”

Swearing to the Gods and threating to hurl various people, including himself, from significant heights seems to be some sort of theme for The King’s manservant. Before Tristan can consider the implications of that, Sir Elyan turns to Merlin with a wide, teasing grin on his face:

“You know, I would’ve let you tag along for free, Merlin, but now that you’ve promised me something I feel the need to take advantage.”

Tristan tenses at that, a shot of ice spiking down his spine. He has keen eyes and sharp ears, he knows that Sir Elyan is the lovely Gwen’s brother, Sir Mordred seems to have an... odd worship for the servant, and he’s definitely picked up on the close bond between Merlin and Sir Lancelot, but is this where Camelot’s image comes crashing down in Tristan’s head? He knew that it was better here for servant’s than other Kingdoms, but there are always people who’ll take advantage of their position, no matter where you are. Merlin’s shoulders just drop and he asks in a sulking voice:

“What do you want?”

Tristan grits his teeth, moving his gaze so no one would catch him glaring at the knight as he tries to figure out a way to help, a way to get this virtual stranger out of being... abused, in such a manner. If he’d carried on glaring, he would’ve noticed Elyan’s soft smile and amused raised eyebrow:

“Next time you gather herbs for Gaius, bring back some more of those flowers that you got for Gwen. She said they added vibrancy to the house, whatever that means, but they make her happy, so...-”

Merlin just giggles and nods and Tristan relaxes, looking back to them with a confused smile on his face. That was... actually kind of sweet, he can definitely see the resemblance between the knight and his sister:

“-AND I want whatever Arthur’s having for dinner tonight, his food always looks way nicer than ours.”

Merlin lets out a faux annoyed groan, but then rolls his eyes and grins, nodding:

“Consider it done. Can we go now? I really don’t want to risk him seeing me and giving me some stupid chore to do.”

Elyan laughs and nods, and the four of them begin making their way out of the courtyard and into the city. Sir Lancelot finally joins the conversation, clearly amused as he says:

“You know it’s literally your job to do chores, right?”

Merlin turns to glare at him as Sir Mordred and Sir Elyan laugh, and Tristan only just hears his reply as the castle gates shut behind them:

“Fuck off.”

Tristan decides it would be pointless to bring this up to anyone again, he figures he’ll probably just get the same answer as last time.

The next confusing incident happens only a few days later. But Tristan supposes that at this point... it really shouldn’t be confusing. Gwen was right, he did just... get used to it.

He heard the steps pounding down the corridor before he saw him, but they were coming fast and hard, so he presses himself against the wall, holding the tray to his side to protect it as best he could as Merlin comes skidding round the corner.

He stops just long enough for Tristan to calm himself by spying the wide grin on his face, but he’s quickly sprinting down the hall again, laughing as he waves whatever it is he’s got clutched in his hands. The second set of loud, rapid footsteps stops Tristan from stepping away from the wall quite yet. Just a moment later, Sir Gwaine follows Merlin’s skidded path around the corner, though the heavier man overshoots slightly and he runs into the wall opposite Tristan with a crash and a deep groan.

The rebellious knight gives a wide-eyed Tristan an awkward nod before pushing himself off the wall and following Merlin’s blazing trail, screaming down the corridor:

“I warned you Merlin!! Don’t come between a man and his ale, now give that back you bastard!”

Tristan hears Merlin’s laughter grow louder, even from the two corridors away that the other servant had managed to race to.

He shrugs to himself, waiting for a moment to see if anyone else was going to come barrelling around the corner before sighing, and continuing his journey up to the visiting Lord’s chambers.

It was unusual, he thought, how quickly he’d come to terms with the fact that a servant was sassing The King and pranking the knights and inviting himself on various hunts and patrols that he really had no business on. Unusual indeed.

He’d learnt to ignore it. Or at least brush it off.

In the two weeks since Merlin had (presumably) stolen Sir Gwaine’s skin of ale, he’d seen the servant call The King a long list of imaginative insults (what the hell is a dollop head?), walk around with Sir Leon’s cloak on because he was a little chilly, accuse someone of treason (and somehow been right about it), and threaten to kill at least seven people; including, but not limited to: The King himself, The King’s already dead father, some stuck up Noble (though that was under his breath, Tristan just happened to be stood next to him), and Sir Percival.

And Gwen was... absolutely right. He's just... like that. He's Merlin, and that’s what Merlin does.

So when he turns a corner in a rarely used to corridor to see him pressing The King against a wall, snogging the life out of him, Tristan simply turns around and walks back the other way. Both of them look fairly happy with the arrangement, and they’d probably chosen this corridor for the exact same reason Tristan had: it was out of everyone’s way, and was unlikely to be inhabited.

He thinks it’s odd, how... un-odd he finds it. He absent-mindedly thinks that, with the way they acted around each other, he really should’ve seen this coming. A sudden thought occurs to him, and he ducks into a storage cupboard, laying his tray down carefully as he rummages through the boxes. He lets out a quiet “Yay” when he finds what he’s looking for, carefully picking up his tray with only one hand and nudging the door open again with his hip.

He walks back towards the corner he had just turned (and turned again) making a conscious effort to keep his steps quiet; he places the danger sign, usually used where walls had collapsed or windows had been smashed, in the middle of the corridor, a clear indication of “Do Not Enter”.

He nods smugly at his quick thinking and easy handy work before mentally planning the quickest route to the kitchens and following it hurriedly.

He casually wonders if he has time to circle around to the other end of the corridor so he could put another sign down before Cook gets angry at him for being late. Probably not. At least, not before they... finish up and move on. Hmm. He suddenly panics about the thought of them seeing the sign and knowing that someone had spotted them but... well. Hopefully they would just appreciate it and move on.

Yet again, he decides not to bring this up to anyone. He may or may not have overheard a few of the knights making some sort of bet, and he may or may not want to watch on with amusement as they fail to realise that all of them have already lost.

Tristan smiles to himself; working here had turned out to be rather entertaining, in the end.

THE END

I know it’s short, but I really didn’t know what else to add without it sounding like I was just repeating myself over and over😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

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queen-haq · 3 years

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 13

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

gif credit: @bilyrusso

Part 13

It was 8 in the evening and you were still in the office. You hadn’t accomplished much work today, your mind mostly focused on Billy. You were surprised by how quickly he’d been able to make the funeral arrangements for his mother. Yesterday you had driven over to the nursing home and by the time you reached there, Carla Russo’s body had already been picked up. You’d signed a few papers for Billy and picked up the remainder of Carla’s things before you returned home. Everything of hers was packed into a small suitcase and sitting in your living room. You wanted to call him, ask him how he was and offer your support, but he seemed determined to do everything on his own when you’d talked to him last and you didn’t want to intrude.

You gave yourself a mental shake, reminding yourself to concentrate. This workday had been a wash. When you weren’t distracted by thoughts of Billy, you were putting out fires in your team. At least the personnel conflicts have been temporarily resolved, but now you needed to work on a slide deck that you’d been tasked with presenting to the executive leadership committee later in the week.

An hour later you were halfway done with your presentation when your phone rang. You glanced down at your screen to find Billy’s name on the screen. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He sounded exhausted. “You still at work?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

There was a pause. “You give off the workaholic vibe.”

You smiled to yourself; at least he was okay enough to crack jokes. “How are you?”

“You mean am I grieving over a goddamn dead woman who preferred meth to her own fucking son?” He sighed. “No big loss. I’m fine.”

Anger and hurt saturated his voice despite his attempts to sound unaffected. Your heart hurt for him, you wished there was something you could do. “Do you need anything?”

“The funeral service is tomorrow.” A beat of silence followed. “Do you want to come?”

“Sure. What time?”

“2pm.”

“I’ll take the day off. Do you need my help with anything? Maybe I can call some of her friends?”

“When I found her she was living on the streets, barely alive but still hooked on meth. I doubt she’s got any friends.”

“What about the people in the nursing home? Maybe they want to come?”

“No, I don’t want anyone else there. Just you.”

Not liking the warmth that spread through you upon hearing his words, you reminded yourself he was probably feeling unusually vulnerable. This wasn’t typical of him.

“Do you want to come over?” he asked.

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “I would but I have so much work to do. I’ll be here for another hour at least.”

“Come over after you’re done.”

“It’ll be really late.”

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

“I can stop by my place to pick up your mom’s-.”

“No, it’s okay.”

You realized he wasn’t quite ready to go through Carla’s belongings yet.

“Bring your stuff with you.”

“Stuff?”

“Overnight bag, clothes for tomorrow, whatever.”

“Oh. You want me to stay over?”

“Yeah, might as well. We can drive over together for the service tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Despite the conversation coming to a natural end, he wasn’t hanging up. It seemed as if he was reluctant to be alone, probably because that meant dealing with the complicated emotions for his mother. You knew exactly how that felt. “If you want, I can leave now. I can work from your apartment instead of the office.”

“You’re not worried I’ll be tempted to spy on Valiant stuff?” he teased.

You smiled. “As if I’d let you see what I’m working on.”

“Guess no corporate espionage for me tonight.”

“Still going to keep you away from my laptop.”

He chuckled. “Just get here. I promise not to bug you while you work.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now.”

“See you soon.”

After you hung up, you started gathering your things together.

***

An hour later, you were at his place. When he opened the door, you immediately grew concerned at how tired he looked. Traveling back and forth from Vegas plus dealing with the news about Carla’s death within the last few hours meant he was absolutely exhausted.

“Hey,” he greeted you, smiling as he took the overnight bag from your hands.

You removed your heels while he took your bag inside his room and then made your way to his living room. While his penthouse suite was much bigger than yours, you actually didn’t like it very much. Despite the high-end finishes and the beautiful interiors - Billy had obviously hired a designer to make the place look good - it always felt very cool and inhospitable to you. It was too perfect and you always felt out of place inside the suite.

“You hungry?” he asked, coming up behind you. “I ordered dinner for you.” Arms encircling your waist, he dropped a kiss on the back of your head as he maneuvered you to the kitchen. He’d laid out the food for you on the dining table, and from the take-out containers you knew it was from one of your favourite Indian restaurants. The thoughtful gesture surprised you, you weren’t used to that from him. Noting that he’d only set the table for one, you turned around to look at him. “You’re not going to eat with me?”

“I ate already. I was starving. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You cradled his face with one hand, your eyes roving over his beautiful face as he placed a kiss on the fleshy part of your palm. “You look exhausted. Did you even sleep?”

“No” He leaned back against the kitchen counter, weary. For a moment he closed his eyes, simply holding still, and you found yourself wrapping your arms around him in a hug. You didn’t understand why you’d even initiated the embrace – hugs were never your thing – but seeing him so beaten-down you were desperate to comfort him. He leaned into you, his body flushed against yours, and you held him tight. Stroking the nape of his neck, you placed a soft kiss on the center of his forehead. “Why don’t you take a nap while I work?”

“You don’t mind?”

You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his hair. “At least I don’t have to worry about you stealing my company secrets while you sleep.”

He smirked. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Yup. Probably still working away.”

Billy grazed your temple softly before dropping a tender kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay, but eat first.”

You nodded your head, watching after him as he sauntered out of the kitchen and disappeared down the hallway.

Sighing, you went to the sink to wash your hands before eating.

***

It was after midnight and you were still working on your slide deck when you heard Billy puttering around in the bathroom. Soon he slowly made his way towards you, dressed in a t-shirt and black boxers, his hair all messy. He yawned lazily, falling onto the other end of the couch.

“I thought you’d sleep through the night,” you remarked.

“Are you still working?” he asked.

“Almost done.” You saved the file and shut off the laptop before slipping it back inside your bag.

Suddenly he pulled you closer and you found yourself tucked underneath him on the couch as he glanced down at you from above. “You work too hard.”

You smiled up at him. “They don’t pay me the big bucks to sit there and look pretty.”

A slow, incandescent smile curved his lips. “I would. If I ran Valiant, you’d be my personal stress relief. You’d be in my office the entire time and do nothing but look pretty and service me.”

“That’s sexual harassment.”

Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever. I’d make it worth your while.”

You laughed, angling up to kiss him. “Your breath is all minty fresh.”

“I brushed my teeth for you.”

“Wow. Be still my heart.”

A warm grin covered his face as he shifted down your body to nuzzle your neck. His weight was heavy as he rested atop you, but you liked the solid feel of him on you, the way you felt all safe and warm. You stroked his hair while he drew lazy circles on your chest, the silence between you two comforting.

“No one knows about her. Not Frank, not Curtis, no one.”

Those names were familiar to you because Billy had mentioned them in passing a few times. Of course he’d never shared any other info, but you being you, you’d dug around and found out more about them. You knew they’d served with Billy and he considered them his closest friends.

“When I found her three years ago, I put her in that home and forgot all about her.”

“You visited her every week,” you reminded him.

“Because I wanted her to regret abandoning me. I wanted her to see how far I’d come, I wanted to throw her mistakes in her face. But I don’t think she regretted safe-havening me, not even a bit.”

The bitter pain in his voice made your heart hurt for him.

“Maybe I should be happy she’s finally dead, or maybe I’m supposed to be sad or something.”

“How do you actually feel?”

“Nothing. I feel nothing.”

“Billy, I think that’s normal. There’s no right or wrong in this. All of your feelings are valid.”

“Even if her dying made me absolutely ecstatic? You wouldn’t think I was a fucking psychopath?”

“You are a psychopath but not because you have conflicting emotions about your terrible mother dying. You have the right to feel how you feel about her, whatever that might be.”

Eyes blazing with emotion, he hovered about you to meet your gaze. “Then what makes me a psychopath?”

You quirked your eyebrow. “The fact you want to torture my dates.”

“Not just torture, I want to kill them.” Eyes darkened, voice velvety-smooth, he covered your mouth with his and ravaged you with a kiss that left you thrumming and breathless.

“Only you’re allowed to touch me?” you asked through labored breaths.

“Yes.” His voice was a lustful rasp, his mouth leaving a heated trail as he sucked on the oh-so-sensitive corner of where your neck and shoulder intersected. Sparks of electricity ran down your spine. “Only me.”

You took his hand and guided it down your body, parting your thighs for him.

Like always, you were soon completely lost in the erotic pleasure of his mouth on you. Your legs hooked over his shoulders, your hands grabbed the back of the couch for support as he fucked you with his hands and mouth, sucking you, licking you, his tongue flicking over your clit until you were keening under him. Body arching off the couch, you moaned his name louder and louder until he drove you completely over the edge.

Then you felt a light slap on your cunt which immediately brought you back to reality. Opening your eyes, you found Billy perched between your legs, gracing you with the most wicked smile. “That’s one.” He slapped your pussy again, this time his long, lean fingers ever so slightly grazing your clit and your hips bucked, wanting more. “As promised.” His eyebrow quirked up. “Punishment.”

“Not fair,” you protested. “I’ll date who I want.”

He slapped you again, a little harder this time, but then he leaned down to place comforting kisses on the very spots he assaulted and you moaned with pleasure.

“All of you.” His tongue lapped over your clit, eyes locked with yours. “Belongs to me. I own you.”

“You don’t!” You squealed when he flipped you over unexpectedly, grabbing you by the hips so your ass was lifted of the couch. And then he squeezed your butt cheeks, biting them lightly before he started rimming you.

***

After sharing a shower the two of you were laying in his bed, your back pressed against his chest as you both stared up at the ceiling. His one hand was intertwined with yours, the other arm circled around your hips. The two of you didn’t have sex but you didn’t mind. You were both fatigued.

“I smell like you now,” you murmured, realizing the soap in his shower had left its scent on you.

“I know. I like it.” He squeezed your fingers. “I have a present for you.”

“I hope it’s not earrings again.”

He chuckled. “No, not earrings.”

“What is it then?”

“Jewelry.”

You turned back to look at him. “What? Like a necklace?”

“Something like that. Except I’m the only one who’ll see you wearing it.”

“Ah. And where is this gift?”

He kissed the top of your head. “Not here yet.”

You smiled to yourself. “People usually wait until they have the gift in hand before telling others about it.”

“I couldn’t wait. I’m excited to see you wear it.”

He stroked your hair, and your eyes grew heavy. Soon you started falling into deep slumber, feeling calm, comforted by Billy’s arms around you.

“What happened with your family?”

Your eyes flew open. Like always, any mention of your family unfurled anxiety within you. You didn’t like thinking about them letting alone discussing them. “They passed away.”

“They’re dead?”

“Yes.”

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

He pulled you up so you were facing him now, his intoxicating gaze completely focused on you. “That day when I asked you about the pictures, you said you weren’t close to your family.”

“I meant my extended family. I don’t keep in touch with them,” you replied smoothly.

“What were your parents like?”

Irritation surged through you at his obtrusive questions but you had to remind yourself he just lost his mother. He was feeling out-of-sorts, working through his grief – even if he didn’t think so – and he was reaching out to the only person in his life that knew about his mother. “Normal.”

He simply stared at you for a long time, studying you, saying nothing. “Normal,” he repeated, finally breaking the strained silence.

You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze to the base of his throat so you didn’t have to hold his piercing stare. “Yup.”

“How did they die?”

“Car accident.”

“You miss them?”

“Of course,” you lied.

He reached out to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “So you grew up with great parents, white picket fence and all that bullshit? Sounds like you had a fairytale childhood.”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m really tired.”

“Sure. I’ll add this to the list of all the other shit we’ll talk about someday.”

He sounded almost angry with you and you weren’t sure why. Before you could question him, however, he pulled you close so you were snuggled against his chest and the warmth of his body was enough to silence your brain and lull you to sleep.

***

It was a cold, crisp autumn day in New York. The outdoor service, attended by only you and Billy, was short and quick. Throughout it, he’d gripped your hand even though he’d been outwardly calm and collected. Even now as he stood a few feet away from you, impeccably dressed in a black suit, his dark eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses as he stared out at the pond, you sensed he was a complete mess inside. You didn’t know what to say to him so you simply sat on the bench, both of you in an isolated corner of the garden. Eventually he came to sit beside you, taking your hand in his.

“I’d have given her the whole world.” His voice was filled with pain and longing as he removed his sunglasses and tucked them in the upper pocket of his suit. “I would have given her anything she ever wanted.” Billy’s eyes met yours. “If she’d just wanted me.”

You scooted closer to wrap your arms around him, breathing him in as he sunk into you. His hands caressed your back, his grip on you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe. After a while he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes holding you prisoner in front of him.

“Swear to me you’ll never leave.”

“Billy-”

“Promise me!”

“I can’t.”

“It wasn’t a fucking request, Y/N.”

You tried to pull away from him but he fisted the back of your hair, holding you in place.

The raw urgency in his voice played havoc with your emotions. If you closed your eyes, just for a moment, you could shut out all the doubts in your head and simply believe him - but you could only live the fantasy for a short moment before reality forced its way back in. “You don’t mean those words, Billy.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t feel that strongly about me.”

His eyes narrowed, glaring at you with hostility. “You’re gonna tell me how I feel?”

“I’m not what you want.”

“And what do you think I want?”

You gave him a sad smile. “The best of everything. Best car, best clothes, the most beautiful women in your arms. You want all that because you need others to want what you have.”

“Is that so wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that – except I don’t fit into any of those categories. You want a woman like Dinah Madani. I’m not her. So eventually this thing between us will end.”

His jaw was set in a grim line, eyes burning bright with rage. “So you have me all figured out, huh?”

“Don’t get mad. You know it’s the truth.”

He yanked you closer, crushing you against him. “It’s been me against the world for as long as I can remember. But when I look at you.” His eyes softened, mouth parting as his dark gaze roamed over your face. “I don’t feel alone anymore.”

Your heart melted. The tenuous handle you had on your self-control disintegrated completely. You closed your mouth over his, kissing him frantically as he picked you up and straddled you across his lap.

He pulled back to look at you. “You’re my home. You’re all I need.”

Part 14

A/N - As always, all of your feedback, comments, asks, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated. They truly inspire me to keep writing, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, please let me know.

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

Note

Hi I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader where they are cuddling and talking after a long day of work?

pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: mental health/anxiety being mean, insecurity, asides from that it’s pure fluff and nice and lovey dovey

a/n: I love writing fluff omg, I went in a slightly different route that I intended with this one but I hope you like it :))))

------------------------------------------------------------------

You pushed the heavy wooden door of your home open, dragging your legs in as you fought to keep your eyes open. You pushed the door closed with your back, leaning your head against it, and closing your eyes for a second, before sliding down, still leaning against the door, and wrestling to remove you shoes with a huff.

You heard a cough ahead of you and looked up to see Azriel fondly watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He was still in his leathers, so you presumed he had just beat you home, his tired eyes sparkling with humour as he watched you struggle with your boots. You didn’t say anything as you stood and padded over to him on heavy feet, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing your eyes shut.

You didn’t want to think of the long week you had dealt with, you just wanted to bury yourself under a mountain of pillows and blankets and maybe wrap your limbs around Azriel like a koala bear. He wrapped his arms around you, scarred hands rubbing up and down your back as the two of you stood together in silence, simply breathing in the other and allowing your souls to be reacquainted.

When you first met Azriel he had wandered into your shop on a whim, wanting to get Feyre some flowers to congratulate her on the pregnancy and he remembered Elain had mentioned this shop being one of her favourites. He had expected to be in and out, not in the mood for a long conversation, or any conversation for that matter. But as soon as he saw your pretty face, your flowy, dress that stopped just above your dirt covered knees, all his plans were thrown out the window.

“Can I help you?” you had asked, sweet-lipped, your voice sounding the way cherries tasted, sweet but with a deeper richness. A smooth tone that he could listen to for hours.

He ended up buying as many flowers as he could without seeming insane, not wanting you to ever stop speaking, wanting you to explain the meaning behind every flower in your store if it meant he got to stay with you.

You had noticed him as well of course. Who wouldn’t, he was beautiful and carried himself with so much grace and poise that you were sure he was a fallen angel. You had lengthened your descriptions of the flowers, face heating when you realised you were rambling and fighting a grin when he asked you to continue.

You had invited him to sit with you as you were brewing tea and he had accepted, sipping tentatively at the tea you told him you grew yourself, the greenhouse in your garden perfect for the needed flowers. The two of you had spoken for hours before he left, ignoring the confused looks from his friends when he came home with six separate bouquets of flowers. Instead deciding to picture your pretty face as he lay in bed that night, finally getting rest for the first time in weeks.

Now, you were wrapped up in his arms, still not speaking. He didn’t worry too much, he knew that sometimes you weren’t ready to speak, that some days you just needed some quiet to process your day and come back to yourself. When you had first explained the way you would drift from your own mind, feeling as if you were floating above your own body Azriel had almost cried, the realisation that maybe he wasn’t the only one in the world, that maybe there was someone for him after all.

He lifted you into his arms and carried you to the kitchen, carefully avoiding the plants littered around the house, before shifting you onto one hip like a baby, knowing you wouldn’t be letting go any time soon. He set about brewing your favourite tea, smiling as he picked up the pot that you had shared the fifth time he came to visit you.

The store had been closed but you had invited him, so he pushed in, cringing at himself when he realised how early he was but all his thoughts came to a halt when he heard that sweet voice of yours coming from your apartment above your shop.

“My lovers got humour, she's the giggle at a funeral, knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner. If the Heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece, every Sunday's getting more bleak a fresh poison each week- AH!” you screamed when you saw him standing in the doorway, pressing a hand to your heart as it slowed back to its regular beat. “Fuck you, oh my.”

He genuinely laughed then, not expecting to hear you swear. The girl who had green stained fingers and who fed stray cats, the girl who always decorated for every holiday and who apologised when she bumped into inanimate objects. Your face was hot to the touch and you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, so he had stopped laughing, moving to up your face, forcing you to look in his eyes.

“You have the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard.” He said sincerely but you scoffed,

“No I really don’t,” you laughed but he saw the insecurities then, “I know it’s whiny.” He frowned; your voice having been one of your most attractive traits in his eyes. He had started to see beneath your cracks then, but now with you wrapped around him he remembered how deep they went.

“Do you want to talk about it baby?” he asked carefully, not wanting to startle you, knowing how deep you could get in your head, tiny noises startling you when you were zoned out.

“Bad brain.” Was all you muttered, and he frowned but just kissed your forehead and continued making your tea. When he was done he carried both you and the tea through to your bedroom, setting the tea down before twisting you again and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you on the side of the bath and wet a cloth, cleaning the makeup from your face, and moisturising your skin before picking you back up and taking you back to your room. You slowly changed into one of his shirts and some loose boxers before crawling under the duvet and reaching your hands out to Azriel who had changed into his pyjama bottoms.

He crawled in next to you, pulling you into his chest, his wings wrapping around the two of you and then his shadows settling over both of you, protecting you from the outside world.

“How was your week?” he asked, one hand coming up to play with your hair knowing how much it relaxed you and feeling his heart warm when he felt you smile against his neck.

“Bit shit,”

“How so?”

“Just rude customers, and this one guy wanted like two dozen flowers which I made up but then he couldn’t pay and trashed the bouquets I had made him. Plus all the noise made my anxiety play up,” you muttered, and he frowned, not liking how put out you sounded.

“Want me to kill him?” he asked, only half-joking.

“I think that’s a bit extreme,” you laughed into his shoulder.

“Lightly maim then?”

“Maybe just a scare, make him think his house is haunted or something,”

“That I can do.” He smiled, kissing you, happy to have you partially back to him.

“What about you, how was your week, I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

“I know, sorry. I’ve been doing some stuff for Rhys.”

“I’m presuming I’m not allowed to hear about it,” you said, well aware of how secretive his job was.

“It’s not a mission per say, I’m just babysitting.”

“Is it fun at least?” you asked, grinning at him cheekily and he scrunched up his face, thinking back over his week of baby sitting two horny Fae’s while he dreamt of being in your little apartment.

“Not the word I would use, they’re too horny for their own good.”

“The babies?!”

“No! NO! They’re not actually children!” he backtracked as you collapsed into a fit of giggles, Azriel joining you soon after. “You know I think they suspect something,” he said once you finally calmed down, “I think they’ve worked out I’m sneaking off.”

“Hmm, guess we have to kill them then.” You mused and Azriel grinned,

“Only reasonable course of action.”

“I mean we’d be fools not to,”

“Clearly.” He laughed, before tightening his grip, “seriously though, do you want to meet them?”

“I mean, yeah. I think it’d be nice,” he noticed your mood had shifted again and nudged you, imploring you to continue, “It’s just you’re all so accomplished and amazing, powerful people and I’m just… me.”

He tried to ignore the pain that stabbed into his heart at your self-deprecating words, having thought them about himself enough times to know how they felt. “Don’t say that, you’re an incredible person. And even if you weren’t the kindest, sweetest person I had ever met, you’re still the girl I love and honestly I think Cassian is one ex-girlfriend away from selling me to the highest bidder.”

You laughed and nuzzled in farther, “Kindest person you’ve ever met?”

“Well asides from the occasional death threats,”

“ah yes, ignoring that. Of course.” He laughed and kissed your forehead, eyes closing as he heard your voice get softer and your breath slower.

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair as you felt your eyelids droop, the weight of the week lifted off of your shoulders as you buried yourself in Azriel’s arms, peaceful in his embrace.

“I love you.”

#acofas #acomaf #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf

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heejojo · 3 years

Text

Mr Hollywood

summary: Sim Jaeyun had made it, he had finally fulfilled his dream of being an artist but he had to leave the place he called he called home promising he would come back when everything was okay. He’s back now but are you sure it’s the same Jake you once knew?

genre: fluff, minor angst, childhood lovers turned exes to lovers again

pairing: Celebrity Sim Jaeyun x non-celebrity reader (with enhypen and treasure appearances)

warning: none

word count: 4.1k

a/n: although it has been proofread, I cannot guarantee no errors so please let me know if you see any! please let me know what you think. likes and reblogs are appreciated and I hope you have a good day.

listen to the playlist here

send an ask or fill out this form to be part of the taglist!

taglist (open): @enhyphun @jungwoniics @penny-quinn @ncthpen @fylithia @taecup-ontrack @renee1414@studioreader

“And the Artist Of The Year Award goes to none other than...” the announcer said, keeping you all at the edge of your seats. Everyone here had voted for Jake so many times so that he would win. The announcer looked at the folded card in his hand before smiling and saying.

“Jake Sim!” The screams of everyone in the beer parlour with you watching the award ceremony were probably louder than those in the venue itself. You all watched in pride as the look of shock was evident on his face and he shakily walked to the podium to collect the award. You smiled at how good he looked, he had come so far from the boy you once knew here.

Five years ago, Jake had left his hometown, where he grew up for 18 years to pursue his dream. Granted, not everyone is supposed to stay for the rest of their lives but he thought he was going to stay but he made up his mind to leave for his passion. You all supported him even if you weren’t able to talk to him because of his busy schedule. Being able to cheer him from the sidelines was what you were content with. He was the pride of the town and people did not hesitate to show him off.

He gave the announcer a bow and collected the award. You could see the way his hands shook as he collected the award as if it felt unreal that he won.

“I would like to thank God for the ability to get to this point today and to thank my parents for always teaching me the right way and having the courage to let their child pursue his dreams even if it meant that I would be very far away; almost out of reach even. I love you. To all those that have continuously supported me and listened to my music, thank you. To the staff that have worked so hard and everyone I've had the pleasure of meeting, a big thank you to you" he said and walked off.

The excitement of the crowd reduced and everyone eventually retired to their homes while chatting amongst themselves. You think about the award one more time, feeling happy for him and move on. After all, the same way Sim has a life to live is the same way you do also.

The next day, when you wake up you feel a shift in the atmosphere. The birds are still chirping, yes but something feels unusual. You brush off the paranoia you feel and decide to do your usual morning duties and carry on with your day. While other people your age wanted to have prestigious jobs(not like there was anything wrong with that), you wanted something simple and had decided on being either a cafe owner or a florist.

Sadly, the cafe owner agenda wasn't able to work out because everyone in the vicinity was now aware of the way you burned down a cafe trying to bake and collectively decided that you should not be allowed to make food for people. Flowers were better than running a cafe shop. You stayed with your flowers and you were able to give

someone a flower when they needed it.

Need a flower for your mother? You got it, a daylily was exactly what they needed. Wanted to attend a funeral? Take a bouquet of lilies. It was easy to understand and you didn't directly put anyone in harm’s way. Although your shop was hardly ever full, you were content with everything.

That's why you're shocked when you find a line of people waiting to be let into your shop at 9 am. You raised an eyebrow in confusion but you opened the door nevertheless. At the end of the day, you were the one earning the money. You had things to buy, didn't you?

You take your place at the counter and start attending to the customers. They didn't tell you to pick out one for them and just chose it themselves. The crowd slowly reduced till there was only one person left. When there remained a few people, you quietly moved to one person to ask for the reason why they were so cheerful today.

"Jungwon, do you know why everyone is so happy today? My shop was full today!"

"Are you complaining about it?" He asks. Jungwon was the son of the cafe shop owner. He came to your shop frequently when he was on his break and you would talk to each other.

“Of course, I’m not. I just want to know what’s making everyone come here all of a sudden. Even old man Jay came here and you know that man never leaves his house. He bought a red carnation and I’m confused because who does he have affection for that he’s getting them flowers”

“He has a wife you know”

“Please, the last time they had a conversation with each other was when he asked for a divorce” you deadpanned.

“Look Y/N, who’s the one person in this town anyone would do anything for?”

“Kim Junkyu?”

“Close but not him, I wouldn’t do anything for him” Jungwon stated making you roll your eyes.

“The only person left is Sim Jaeyun and we know it’s not possible”

“Ding Ding Ding! We have a winner”

You give him a shaky smile before asking him, “You’re joking right?”

“I’m not,” he says sincerely. You nod your head and go sit on the nearest stool. Placing a hand on your throat as you begin to scratch at it (something you did when you were nervous) and just sit in silence while Jungwon continues talking.

“After the award ceremony, his management released a statement on his Instagram saying that he would be going on hiatus for two months to visit his family. So we townsmen decided to get flowers to pave the road with because he would be coming back. We would have used gold leaves but it’s too expensive”

He continued talking and talking while you were still trying to process the fact that Jake would be coming back. Physically he was still going to be the same Jake you had a crush on before he left but personality-wise? You doubted that. You heard stories of the way fame had changed people; the love from others would get to their heads and make them overly egotistical. A part of you knew that he wouldn’t change but the other part was unsure. Before he left, you made him promise to not change and while you knew promises could be broken, you knew he wouldn’t break them.

“Jungwon, I want to close the shop for today. I’m not feeling too well and want to rest a bit”

“No problem Y/N! If you want, I can stay here and do business for you”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve made enough money today to last me for next month” you say and shoo him away.

At home, you just sit and think for some time before getting up to make some tea and reminiscing about your high school memories. You hardly had feelings for people so when you did, you let them know immediately. When you told Jake that you liked him, he told you that he felt the same. You ignored him for a week after that because you didn’t think that far. After that, you met up with him and explained the reason why you avoided him. You went out with each other for less than 2 weeks and during that period, he had told you about his dreams of becoming an artist and you supported him wholeheartedly.

He would carry your books from school and you both would walk home together every day. He'd play the violin for you because he was good. You'd both pet stray cats and run when they started chasing you. All good things came to an end when he told you that he had to leave to pursue his dream. You both knew you were too young to even attempt a long-distance relationship so you let each other go even though it hurt. You’d watch his music videos and support his activities even though there was a possibility he would never return. Now that he was going to be here, how were you going to cope knowing that your feelings for him were still the same while his feelings could have gone, especially with all the beautiful people in the industry?

That night, while everyone was outside welcoming Mr Hollywood, you stayed in your house dreading the days that would come. The town was small so there was no way that you wouldn’t bump into him. The voices were loud when you tried to sleep. Seems like everyone was ecstatic that Jake had come back. The noise wasn’t able to let you sleep but deep down you knew it was because you were nervous.

You decide to bake cookies to reduce the stress you are currently feeling. You had learnt from your mistakes and no longer burnt kitchens (your kitchen being valid proof of that), but Jungwon’s dad still wouldn’t lift his ban. You baked cookies till 2 am before you were really tired enough to sleep. You had baked almost a hundred cookies that night.

The next morning, you made sure to wake up early so you wouldn’t run into anyone. Thankfully, the townspeople didn’t want to buy flowers that morning and got started on the orders that people out of town had placed. You brought cookies for Jungwon so he could test them. You were trying to fix the counter when someone walked in, making the bell jingle. Assuming it was Jungwon, you say, “Jungwon the cookies are on the counter. Test them and tell me what you think, don’t eat them and run away”

“I’m not a Jungwon but can I talk to Y/N?” You’re startled but you freeze, instantly recognizing the voice. Jake Sim.

“Hello, what would you like?” you asked with a forced smile. You were way too close, the proximity was making you uneasy. He looked a bit disappointed with the way you answered him but what did he expect to come to? It had been five years.

“I just wanted to tal-” he is cut off by Jungwon bursting through the door.

“Y/N, you will not believe who I saw. I saw Jake Sim with my very own two eyes. He looks so much hotter in real life. Do you think he’d sign my back if I asked-” he stopped instantly when he saw the person that was in the flower shop.

He looked like a fish out of water with the way his mouth was agape. Looking at you, then at Jake and then you again. He brought his hand to his head and he hit it hard making you startled.

“Sorry I will leave now,” Jungwon said.

“To cry” he murmured, making you chuckle. Jungwon was someone that cried when he did something embarrassing.

“Jungwon wait,” you say and walk to give him the cookies you had packed for him with a little note.

“Eat them and get back to me when you’re less you know...embarrassed” He snatches them from your hands and makes a run for the door. You giggle then you remember that Jake was still present. Turning to face him, you ask if he wants anything. “I want to talk to you”

You motion him to sit on the spare chair you had and he obliges. Before you even ask him a question, he begins, “Was that your boyfriend?”

“No, not that it concerns you though”

“Where you last night? I saw everyone but you. The Johnny kid said you were feeling ill. I doubt that wasn’t true as you made cookies. The last time I remembered, you were really bad at anything relating to the kitchen”

“Times change and people change, Jaeyun. It’s been 5 years since we last had a conversation with each other. I’m not the same and I’m sure you’re not the same either”

“Let’s get to know each other again. Do things the old fashioned way. Go on dates, paint, and bake with each other. Do some of the things we could have done 5 years ago.”

“And then when you have to leave and have no contact with each other again”

“I won’t do that, I promise. Never again.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Let me prove it to you-”

He’s cut off by the entrance of another customer and stands up to leave but you don’t miss the longing look in his eyes. You hope he can see the same look in yours that’s covered by hurt and waiting for someone to return.

You were not expecting Jake to be at your store first thing on a Friday morning. He was even earlier than you and you're the boss.

“What are you doing here?” you ask. He was bouncing on his feet and looking cherry when you hadn’t even gotten enough sleep.

“I’m here to take you out. Do it like the old times where I’d wait for you so we could go to school together”

“I have work to do today and I’m going to be booked so another time”

“I have come to offer my assistance so tomorrow we can go out together”

“Don’t you have things to do?”

“I’m on a hiatus, I’m free for almost two months and if you want I can be free for more. Imagine all the things we could do in that time” he trails off, fantasizing when you hadn’t even told him that you still liked him. Meanwhile, you had opened the door and walked in.

"Aren't you going to come in and stop thinking of cute stuff?" you ask him and he quickly runs in, flustered.

He takes a look around and puts on a determined face and gets a broom and starts cleaning. For someone that's supposed to be a celebrity, he was cleaning like an employee. You take a rag and wipe all the surfaces and take care of the flowers. After an hour, the shop is ready to open. Customers come rolling in once they see a new help. Although they're surprised, they don't question it.

During your break, Jake picks up a chrysanthemum and hands it to you. "It's for you because you're beautiful," he says

"Hate to rain on your parade but if you gave me this in Italy, it means you wish I were dead" and with that, he takes back the flower instantly and brings a single red rose. You receive it with a small laugh, finding it funny when he doesn't want you misinterpreting him. You were having a sweet moment with him until Jungwon came in again.

"I'm getting tired of seeing you here Mr Sim. As much as I adore you, I need to meet my friend" he states and pulls you to the back. "Care to explain why Jake Sim is in your store again!?"

"Nope" you respond, popping the p. He brought his hand to his forehead and tried to relax his muscles because according to him, he doesn't want to look forty-five when he's thirty years old.

"Look, it's weird coming here and seeing you have company. I'm not against you having company seeing as you've been lonely the entire time I've known you but, I can't stay in his presence! Why must a man Look so gorgeous!? He's ruining my already broken esteem. Everybody saw him in real life and was wondering how a man could look that good."

"They saw him when he was seventeen years old," you tell him.

"And he's twenty-three now! He doesn't look the same and I don't even need to have known him then to know now"

"Jungwon, I want you to get to the point," you tell him, basically pleading at that point because your break would soon be over.

"I'll see you when I have enough confidence to meet him," he says and leaves the store. You shake your head at his overdramatic behaviour and continue with your day. Jake proves to be amazing assistance and you got things done quicker and even closed earlier.

"Thank you for offering help, you can go home now. See you tomorrow" you say in an attempt to shoo him out.

"I want to walk you home" he announces and goes with you home.

"Do you hate me for not talking to you?" he asks.

"I don't hate you. To be honest, I think we both did the right thing by not talking to each other. It was good we had each other in mind but I would have caused too much of a distraction for you. It was great you focused on your career and achieved your goals. I did well too"

"Johnny boy said you were lonely though," he said.

"Number one, I know you know his name is Jungwon but you're just being petty. Two, why were you eavesdropping on our conversation and three, I still had a bit of hope that one day you'd return. I didn't think that you'd come" you say truthfully. The night was making you vulnerable when answering his questions.

"I always asked my mum how you were doing when I called her, you know? I wanted to check up on you without doing so myself. I'd ask her to give you a pop tart because I knew they were your favourite"

Even though he was still far away, he still had kept you in his mind the same way you did for him.

You got home and stayed at the door before you took him by the shoulder and said, "Let's go out together and have fun". He gives you a soft smile and watches you go in before he retires to his own home.

The following day, you're waiting for him to come. You had tried to dress up for the date but didn't want to underdress or overdress since he hadn't told you where you were going. So you decided to wear a simple sundress and made yourself look nice. He arrived wearing something as casual as you in a car.

"Is this your dad's?" you questioned.

"Yup, I borrowed it to take you out,” he says and winks at you. You shake your head laughing and get in the passenger seat and he drives.

“Where are we going?” you ask, curious.

“You’ll see when we get there” you don’t respond but wind down the window and feel the wind on your face which makes you smile.

You catch Jake glancing at you while he’s driving and he doesn’t even try to hide it. “At least try to pretend you’re not starting”

“I can’t help it, you’re so pretty” This kid, he was making it too easy for you to fall for him.

“Do you still like me, Jaeyun?” you inquire.

“I do,” he said with certainty. Has he always been this bold? You don’t say anything and continue to look out so he reaches over and takes one of your hands in his while he uses his other one to drive. You look at him but just continue doing what you’re doing.

“You might not believe me but I mean it,” he says, lightly squeezing your hand as a form of reassurance.

He stops the car at an aquarium and you both come out. You have a wonderful time and although people recognize him and are surprised to see him with you, they don't say anything and leave you alone. You smiled that day more than you had ever smiled before.

"The fishes look good to eat" you whisper in his ear and he playfully smacks your arm and jokes.

"You monster! How can you say that!?" to which you jokingly shrug.

After the aquarium, he takes you to a flower field. "I did my research this time so I don't give you a wrong flower." He picked up a primrose and says, "I know this one means love is eternal so I'm giving it to you because no matter the distance between us, our love will be forever"

You feel warm this time and know that even if he were to leave again, the distance wouldn't matter because together, you both could overcome anything.

"You're all I need" you manage to say.

"When did you get all sentimental?" he teases and you chase after him in the flower field. When you get tired, you lie down on the grass and he lays next to you. Your hands find his hands amid all the grass and you squeeze it. Unknowingly, you fall asleep next to him.

The next weeks that follow include you two bonding and Jake having fun and being relaxed. He was able to write a song but wouldn't let you see the lyrics, saying it wasn't something he wants you to see yet. You met his parents and thanked his mum for taking care of you indirectly and conversed with his dad too. You could tell that he hadn't forgotten any of the values his parents had thought him. He grew up surrounded by a lot of love so he had more than enough to give.

He also met your parents and he was nervous even though you had tried to reassure him that they wouldn't do anything to him. Your father tried to act scary but deep down you knew he had a soft spot for him. Your mom was showering with more affection than she gave you and Jungwon tried stylishly asking him for his celebrity crush numbers.

"Jake, since you're dating my friend can you link me up with Han Sohee? You've worked with her before, help a friend out"

"I'll ask her but no promises" Jungwon was so happy the entire day.

A few days before Jake had to go back because his hiatus was over, you both were talking about how things would be while baking muffins.

"Y/N don't think I won’t talk to you when I go because I can already see the gears turning in your head."

"Pass me the butter Jaeyun"

"Are we back to the first-name basis? Call me the sweet names" he whined.

"Just pass the butter babe" and he passes it instantly.

"Now back to what you were saying, I know you won't forget me obviously and if you try I I can always take a flight to get to you." You tell him. You weren't going to wait around for him anymore. If you missed him, you'd go see him if he was unable to come to see you.

"Better, I was already worried," he says and gives you a back hug.

The day he left was bittersweet and you shed a few tears. It took a lot of willpower to not cry in front of him. You didn't want him to leave but you knew that he had a job to get to and you couldn't be in the way of that.

You both regularly kept in touch, calling each other at least twice a week to catch up on what had happened during each other's week. He hadn't told you that he released a new song and you found out through his fanboy Jungwon who was now the self-acclaimed president of his fan club.

"Y/N, have you heard Jake's new solo? I cried to it for an hour straight" You didn't have any time to check what was going on because someone had ordered flowers for their wedding and you had to get them done quickly.

"New solo?" you ask and Jungwon sits you down and plays the song for you. Truth be told, you cried as well. It felt like he was there with you telling you that he'd never change.

You watched the interview and when he was asked about the meaning or person behind the song, he said, "There's someone that I love and I wanted to let her know that no matter how famous I get, I won't ever change and she shouldn't change either". He looked directly at the camera then continued, "You're stuck with me forever".

That night, you called him and cried on the phone to him telling him about how you saw the interview.

"Y/N, you know I care about you" you sobbed even harder.

"I care about you too, forever"

"Forever baby, regardless of the distance"

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #ficscafe #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfics #enhypen scenarios #enhypen jake #jake sim #jake x reader #enhypenwriters

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s-brant · 3 years

Text

Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #obx s2 #uh oh trouble in paradise #anyway that smut #kinda wanna get railed by JJ in the back of the van #don’t we all?

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

I hope you’re waiting for me.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy, this is a sad one but I hope you all enjoy 💕

Summary: Mob!Tom doesn’t know what he’d do without you and unfortunately he has to find a way to live without you.

Warnings: Death, swearing, just pure heartbreak.

W/C: 2.1K

The event was beautiful, much different to the events you’d attended before, Tom had his arm around your waist as he kissed at your cheek. He was so smitten with you, the wedding ring he’d gotten you was shining in under the fluorescent lights, everyone had commented on how beautiful it was. He loved you with everything he had, you’d been married just short of a month, and this was the first event you’d attended.

You became used to the looks of jealousy thrown your way by this point. Most women wondered how you had done it, how had you gotten the Mob boss so wrapped around your finger that he proposed. Women had tried so hard to gain his attention, but none ever succeeded, he wasn’t interested and by now they’d all gotten the message, he looked at you like you were the only important person in the room.

“I wanna take you into that bathroom and fuck you right now.” Tom groaned into your ear, the white knee length dress you had on was driving him wild. He’d already had it around your waist once today, your legs still slightly shaky from the encounter and you doubted it wouldn’t be the last.

“Calm down.” You hummed as he trailed his hand down your back and squeezed your behind.

“You look so good though.” Tom smiled as he kissed your cheek.

“Mr and Mrs Holland.” You heard a voice say and your stomach dropped. This was one man you hated, he was your typical mob leader, greasy, sexist, everything you hated in a man. “How was the honeymoon, I expect we’ll be expecting a young Holland to join the mix now.” He said and your hand instinctively fell to your stomach. You weren’t pregnant but you were trying.

“It was lovely, thank you.” Tom said, he knew how to keep the peace where you didn’t know what to say.

“Brilliant, well I hope to see you soon.” He said as he walked away, you instantly relaxed.

“I hate him.” You whispered into Tom’s ear, getting on your tiptoes to rest your head on his shoulder as Tom laughed.

“You hate most people in this room.” He teased back. “Makes me wonder how I ever got you to fall in love with me.”

“You have your advantages.” You teased him.

You both watched as a man approached, you didn’t recognize him, and Tom didn’t seem to either.

“To the happy couple.” He said with a smile that set you on edge, you instinctively moved further into Tom’s side. He raised his glass at the two of you and you heard a gun shot resonate through the room, everyone stopped what they were doing. A scream rang out through the room, and you felt as people started to move towards the exit as people burst through the doors around you.

You felt out of place, a pain in your stomach spreading like wildfire. Your hand clutched at it and as you lifted it you saw the blood coating it. It was surreal, how you hadn’t noticed the pain until this point, you hadn’t felt the pain until it ripped through you all of a sudden.

“Tom?” You said weakly but he didn’t hear you as he moved you out of the way, grasping your hand that wasn’t covered in blood and rushing you both through a door and into a corridor.

“Tom, boss- “Harrison joined the two of you and stopped in his tracks. “Y/N/N?” He said quietly as he took in your appearance, Tom turning his attention to his wife, and he felt his heart stop. Your face was pale, blood seeping through your wound. That shot was meant for you and it turned his blood cold, how had he missed it.

“Baby?” Tom said slowly as you looked at him, fear evident in your eyes. Another gunshot rang through the corridor, and you didn’t even have the energy to react, you understood now, you were the target.

“Tom, we need to move.” Harrison spoke as he fired a shot off that hit the guy straight in the head.

Tom picked you up bridal style as you clutched onto your wound, the amount of blood leaving your system made your head feel dizzy as Tom and Harrison moved themselves quickly through the corridors, they were saying things to each other, but you didn’t catch any of it. Harrison had to take charge of this one, Tom wasn’t focused, he was too wrapped up in what was happening to you.

You didn’t look good, and Harrison’s stomach dropped, he knew there was a small chance you’d survive this, the possibility of you seeing tomorrow was not likely. Tom looked lost, mindlessly following his friend through the corridors. Harrison killed god knows how many people, relief flooding his system as he saw the car.

“Baby?” Tom coaxed you back into consciousness. “Hey, I need you to stay with me okay?” He said. “I’m going to get you to a doctor.” He spoke as he removed his jacket. Somehow you’d ended up in the back of his van, you were led across the seats, Tom awkwardly in the footwell. “Princess, you’re going to make it through this okay?” He said as he pressed the jacket to your wound. Your blood covering everything in its path.

“Tom,” you said, and it was so weak that Tom’s heart stopped. He clung onto the tiny amount of hop that his wife was going to be okay. He couldn’t think about losing you, not now, not ever.

“Baby, shh,” he said as he used his free hand to smooth your hair. “Don’t talk, just focus on me and stay with me.” He said, tears streaming down his face, no one had ever seen the man cry, and no one dare comment on it, the people in the car turning their attention elsewhere.

“Tom, I love you.” You said, you knew the wound was fatal now. You knew that this was how you were going to die, you felt so weak that you didn’t really care. You found comfort in having Tom here, he was with you, it’d be okay. “It’s okay.” You whispered as you felt your eyes drift closed.

“Y/N/N, no, no, come on princess, just stay awake, please for me.” He spoke, voice cracking.

“I’m tired.” You mumbled. “I love you.” You said again, you felt like your life was slipping from you, felt your heart beat slow.

“I love you so much princess, so so much.” He said as he put his forehead to yours. “I need you to hold on, we’re almost there and then the doctors going to fix you and we’ll be okay. You can’t die, not you Y/N/N. I can’t lose you.” Tom spoke but it fell on deaf ears, you’d gone.

Tom’s face completely paled as he sat there in shock, your chest no longer rising and falling. He panicked as he shook you.

“No, no, no. Y/N/N, wake up. Come on baby, wake up for me.” He said both hands falling above your chest as he attempted to bring you back.

Harrison couldn’t stop the tears as he pulled up outside the hospital. He hadn’t made it in time, you were gone, that sliver of hope crushed. He wanted to apologise to his friend, wanted to tell him how sorry he was.

“Tom, stop.” Haz said as he grabbed Tom from his awkward position and pulled him out of the car. “Tom, she’s gone.” Haz cried as Tom tried to rip himself from his grasp and get back to you. “Tom!” Harrison shouted, gaining the males attention, he watched as Tom collapsed onto the ground.

“It’s all my fault.” He whispered and Harrison’s heart broke.

“No Tom, it’s not.” Harrison motioned for one of the other men to get someone’s attention, your body needed removing from the back of the vehicle. Haz was glad they had it in with the chief of police, knowing that nothing would come of this. “It’s not your fault.”

“It fucking is. If I wasn’t who I am and I didn’t pursue her, she’d be alive.”

“She loved you Tom. Do you honestly think she didn’t know this would be a possibility? Tom she took the risk because she loved you.”

“And she was killed because of me!”

The funeral was hard, Tom had attended but as soon as it was over he’d left. Harrison had taken over the mob for now, Tom was unfit. Harrison found out who it was that had ordered the murder and kept it to himself, he couldn’t watch Tom fall further into the hole he was already in. Tom had taken it upon himself to almost lock himself in his bedroom.

It was two months after the funeral and Tom still hadn’t gotten rid of your stuff, nor had he gotten rid of the photos of the two of you. Harrison was trying to pull his friend from the darkness that consumed him, but nothing was working, he was lost without you. He’d come back a week ago, he was colder, much more than he’d used to be. He became unfair, almost unrealistic in his expectations of the men around him.

“Tom?” Harrison popped his head around his office door. Harrison stopped in his tracks, not prepared for the scene before him. “Mate?”

Tom was crying as he looked at the wedding ring that had sat on your finger, not noticing Harrison’s presence. He placed the ring down as he pulled one of your favourite hoodies from under his desk before stuffing his face into it as he started to cry uncontrollably.

“Tom?” Harrison panicked as he ran to his friend.

“It still smells like her.” He replied weakly, not removing his face and Harrison understood now why he hadn’t thrown your things out. “I want her back. I can’t do this without her.”

“Tom,” Harrison sighed. “She’d want you to move on. She loved you so much and she wouldn’t want you to be like this.”

“How do you know? How do any of us know what she’d want? She’s not here. She’s never coming back, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t want anyone else, the thought of another woman. Harrison I can’t. I love her more than you can possibly understand.” He cried into your hoody again.

It had taken a few years, but Tom was back to how he had been before he met you, he had a few one night stands here and there, they all had the same thing in common, they all looked like you had but none of them ever stayed, he wouldn’t do that. He always said that no other woman would ever be able to claim that place, it was always yours.

He wore your wedding ring on a chain around his neck, he never parted with it, never removed his own, it sat on his finger like it had since the day you’d put it there. No other woman was ever allowed into his bed, not in your place. He’s learned to deal with it in his own way and Harrison was glad he could have a laugh with his best friend again.

“Where’s Tom?” A man asked as they entered the meeting room, Tom wasn’t in his usual spot, Harrison filled it.

“It’s their anniversary.” Harrison said quietly.

There were 3 days and nights a year where Tom didn’t work; your birthday, your wedding anniversary and the date you died. He made his way to the small plot on the land of his estate, it was yours, you’d always found it peaceful in that corner of the garden and it stayed yours, the only gardener who was allowed to touch it was the one who knew exactly how you liked it.

“Hi baby.” Tom spoke as he laid the flowers on your gravestone. “I hope you’ve had a good day up there. I just know you’re the prettiest angel they have up there, you were down here.” He spoke as he wiped a tear from his cheek.

“I love you. I hope you’re waiting for me. I know I’m waiting for you.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland one shot #tom holland fic #mob!tom #mob!tom x reader

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genshin-obsessed · 3 years

Text

My (f/n) | Zhongli x Reader

Hello! This was originally a collab idea from a friend between like 5 people. The friend who suggested the collab pulled out and idk about others lmao so it might just be me. BUT I COMMITED AND DELIVERED SO! Cuz I’m responsible and amazing💖 anyway. It’s a reincarnation AU! Banner made by 🎭 anon! Thanks to @squeaky-ducky and @solies-scripts for helping me edit this💖

Extra sidenotes: Your previous self’s vision is pyro but you can choose whatever for the reincarnated version even tho it’s not mentioned. Also, Yehara and Lilith are my OCs (yes... more)

Length: 2.1k Summary: Zhongli loves and cherishes you above all else. One day, you’re snatched away from him and the world turns black for him. Yet somehow, a thousand years later, he sees you again.

The bright sun beamed down at the land below, illuminating everything in a golden glow. Zhongli stepped out into the light and closed his eyes, inhaling the fresh air.

Days like these were beautiful but they became a blessing all thanks to one person. A smile graced Zhongli’s beautiful features at the thought of them. His hand found its way onto his chest and he felt it steadily beat. He felt an overwhelming sense of serenity and it was all thanks to this person. You.

You, yourself, were a blessing in this archon’s life. He never thought he would ever feel like this. That he would ever feel love. What was love to archons? They usually loved the lands they resided over. The original archons held love for humanity and guided them.

For Zhongli, love was something of a general term. He loved the sun, the lands… today. But his love for you was something he couldn’t describe. Something the man of wondrous knowledge couldn’t understand.

Zhongli came to realize that love wasn’t something that could be easily explained nor did it need to be. Love gave him overwhelming happiness, so why bother trying to understand every aspect of such a beautiful idea.

The Geo archon walked through the city of Liyue and although he felt great joy, there was also a certain uneasiness. He paused and touched his chest once more as the anxiety grew.

Ultimately, the man ignored it, unable to find the root cause of such dread. He instead opted to find you, so you could settle his nerves a little.

***

“Zhongli!” You beamed once you saw him. He chuckled as you ran to him and wrapped your arms around his slim figure.

“You’re rather excited today,” he commented as he hugged back, “what brought on such elation?”

“Hmm, a very pretty man.” You said, cheekily. There it was, that smile of yours washed away any and all discomfort he felt.

“Oh, is that so? I’m quite jealous.”

“I wouldn’t be.” Zhongli chuckled once more as you leaned in and gave him a kiss. The sensation of your soft lips remained on his even after you’d pulled away. “What brings you here today?”

“I was thinking we could spend some time together. We could go for a walk, maybe set up a picnic since that’s what you wanted to do last time.”

“Really!? You’ll go on a picnic with me?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Your radiant smile was contagious as he found himself smiling in return.

“I’ll set it up!! It can be a late night picnic or- oh! Oh! Let’s watch the sunset! Then we can have our picnic. I’ll set up candles!” Your enthusiasm was always something Zhongli loved. It benefited him more than he could admit.

“Alright then. Where?”

“Our spot!” Zhongli teasingly tilted his head making you pout.

“What spot? I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Yes you do! Come on, Zhongli!” Zhongli leaned in and pecked your pouty lips before nodding.

“I do. Then I’ll meet you there?” You nodded with a bright smile.

“Yes! Exactly! I’ll have everything set up and I want it to be a surprise.”

Zhongli spent a little more time with you before he left, since you needed to prepare for the date. Only a few minutes after he’d left you, the anxiety returned. He touched his chest once more with furrowed brows. What was this?

***

You smiled as you started to place the items down onto the blanket. You’d been planning this picnic for weeks now and you finally had the chance to do it.

You set the cushions and small table you had brought, placing the candles and wine bottle. The food would remain in the basket to keep it safe from bugs since you had to wait quite a while. Hopefully your pyro vision was enough to keep it warm.

“Hello, are you (y/f/n)?” A soft voice called from behind. You turned around and saw a shy, but beautiful woman with long pink hair. The clothes she wore indicated she clearly wasn’t from here. She fidgeted with her hand, showing she was nervous.

“Um… who’s asking?”

“Ah, sorry! My name is Lilith but you can call me Lily. I was told you knew where I could find a um… Mr. Zhongli?”

Zhongli? Why was she looking for him? Finding her safe enough, you opted to direct her to your boyfriend rather than giving information about yourself.

“Oh, yes I do! He’s back in Liyue but you’ll find him at Wangshen Funeral Parlor.”

“Thank you so much!” But she didn’t leave. A giggle escaped her lips and she met your eyes, giving you a dreadful feeling.

“Y-yes?”

“So he’s not here with you… good.” In the blink of an eye, Lilith was in front of you. She threw you back causing you to fly into a tree. You let out a scream as your weakened body hit the ground. Pain shot through you and you weakly looked up at her.

“Wh-why…”

“Pitiful. You’d think he’d choose someone of his caliber but no. He chose someone weak and pathetic like you. Your pyro vision was wasted on you.” Woah, where did her soft voice and shy demeanor go?

“Zh-Zhongli…” you called out as Lilith picked you up and slammed you into the tree once more.

“Call him all you want. But he won’t get here in time.” Lilith repeatedly slammed you into the tree before a sickening crack was heard.

A weak whimper escaped your bloodied lips as the light faded from your eyes.

“H-help m-me… Zh… Zhong… li…” Lilith caught your limp body and picked you up. A wicked smile played on her lips as she walked to her destination.

***

It had happened all so suddenly. Zhongli was meeting an acquaintance to talk about his work at the funeral parlor when he felt a sharp, intense pain in his chest and back. He just knew.

He threw everything away, apologizing to his friend and practically sprinting to where you two were supposed to meet. There he was met with a grim sight.

The picnic had been set up almost completely, but the large tree behind it was covered in blood. The Geo Archon knew exactly who it belonged to. He finally noticed the letter sitting on the table.

Once he read it, he ran to the nearest Statue of the Seven in hopes of finding you and whoever took you. But it was too late. When he finally reached the statue, his heart shattered.

Your body was on top of the statue, laying across the lap of the stone man. Blood trailed down your arm that hung over the edge and dripped from your finger. Your lifeless eyes stared into nothingness, the final sign of your death.

A large pillar solidified in front of him and he quickly climbed up to get to you. Zhongli’s shaky hand slowly and hesitantly touched yours. Cold. You were so cold. Where was your usual warmth? Where was that dazzling smile that often chased away his sorrows? Where was the light in your eyes? Where was the joy you brought him?

“M-my… (f/n)...” he murmured in a sorrowful tone, “what’s… no. No, this isn’t happening.” He pulled you down and into his arms, wincing at how lifeless you were.

You couldn’t be dead, you couldn’t have left him. He jumped down to the ground with you tightly in his arms. His eyes stung and his vision started to get blurry. Crying? An archon, crying? The tears slowly slid down his pale cheeks. His voice cracked when he spoke up.

“Wake up, my love. Please wake up.” He begged looking down at you. The blood trickled down your mouth, a clear sign you’d been killed recently. Within the hour, actually. “P-please blink… please wake up. Please come back to m-me. I just… I can’t do this without you. I…” what could he say? What could he do?

Zhongli had failed. He’d failed to keep you safe and alive. He’d vowed to always protect you and he vowed to never let you get hurt.

The tears spilled down his cheeks and the pain in his heart grew. He took your face in his free hand and took a good look at his consequence. At his failure.

“Tell m-me this is just s-some cruel joke, w-wake up and tell me this isn’t real. I-it’s just a n-nightmare, right? Right?” Zhongli held you tightly with his head pressed against your chest. Nothing. He heard nothing.

You never blinked, you never looked up at him with that adorable giggle, and you never exclaimed it was a joke.

You really were gone.

***

How many years ago was that now? Almost a thousand? Zhongli had never gotten over your death and how could he? His first and only lover had been ripped away from him and he still hadn’t found the murderer.

There had been a significant change in Zhongli since then. He was much more reserved and defensive but he was also very protective of anyone he came to call a friend. Ever since losing you, he found it hard to love and care for people the same way.

There was a constant emptiness, a loneliness that never left. No matter how many friends surrounded him, he always felt empty. Food and drinks were tasteless and the world lacked color. No smile matched yours, no warmth matched yours, and he never found a pair of dazzling eyes such as yours. And he was sure he’d never see them again… or so he thought.

“Zhongli! Are you coming?” Yehara asked, making the man look toward her.

“Oh, sure. Let’s go.” Zhongli had met Yehara a few years ago and had helped her during a commission. She hadn’t been doing so well and he’d practically saved her. Ever since then, she stuck to him like glue. Although he wasn’t terribly fond of her from the beginning, he grew to like her. Once they were close enough, Zhongli finally opened up about you and your death.

Yehara swore she’d help solve the murder and wouldn’t rest until he knew. Zhongli had grown much closer to her than he anticipated. The relationship gave him complicated feelings, ones he didn't want to even deal with.

At first, he wondered if he had feelings for Yehara or else why did he feel so comfortable with her? Why did he feel so safe? Why did he often find himself seeking her out when he felt alone? He was scared because you were long gone but for him it was just yesterday. Zhongli didn't want to move on, no matter how healthy it was. He only wanted you, nobody else. Not Yehara, not another archon, no one but you.

There were many things he felt with you that he didn’t with Yehara. Her smile didn’t light up his world, her laughter didn’t echo in his ears, her hugs didn’t leave him tingling, and her words never stayed with him for more than a minute.

There were many nights he spent thinking about himself and Yehara. Was he in love with her? It took some time, but he eventually came to the conclusion that didn’t. He hoped she didn’t either.

“Zhongli! Stop dozing off!” Yehara said, making him look down. He chuckled and patted her head, before looking away.

“Sorry, sorry. It won’t happen ag-” Zhongli stopped abruptly, his golden-orange eyes widened. No…

“Oh come on Zhongli, you just said this wouldn’t happen again.” Yehara huffed and followed his gaze. He was looking into a group of people but after a few moments, her red eyes widened as well.

A person, looking EXACTLY like you was smelling some flowers at a stall. You smiled and Zhongli’s heart sped up immediately.

“It’s them… that’s my (f/n)... I know it.” The archon whispered.

“That can’t be… I thought…” Yehara looked at Zhongli only to look back at you. The duo watched as you nodded and purchased the flowers and turned towards them. When your eyes landed on them you froze, almost as if you’d seen a ghost.

“They saw us.” Yehara gasped, bringing Zhongli out of his trance. You did. You were looking directly at him with the same look of shock. Without wasting any more time, you ran towards him and stopped right in front of them. Zhongli’s heart was beating out of his chest and he clenched his hands. Why were you looking at him like that?

“You’re… Zhongli, right? I’m (y/f/n)... I know you from my dreams.”

“Dreams?” Yehara asked and you nodded, giving her a soft smile. You were more beautiful than Zhongli had described. She could see why he was so infatuated.

“I began dreaming about you when I turned 20.” That was an odd coincidence, since you were 20 when he first asked you to be his.

“You… know me?”

“I do. I only know things from dreams and as dreams not memories… but since you’re here in front of me, there has to be some truth to them. So will you tell me more?” A smile of relief appeared on his lips and he nodded.

“Of course, anything for you… my (f/n).”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagines #reincarnation au

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harfanfare · 3 years

Text

Snow White and Juliet

trigger warning: suicide and just whatever happened in Romeo and Juliet & Snow White but darker.

People tend to define different things with the same word.

According to some, the lack of life is simply death. Others include there people who do nothing but work. They have no love, no passion. Those who remain unmoved by the suffering of others. Heartless ones.

For one poison vendor, "lifeless" meant being unable to move, drink, eat, but think. Think for eternity about nothing, what is described harsher than real death.

◆◆◆

„Test 103 was accomplished with success.”

There is confusion in the experiment hall. Researchers run from monitor to monitor, all comparing unexpected, but desired results.

No errors in documentation. No lapses in research. No difference in subsequent attempts.

The team of researchers was cheering in awe: the antidote for one of the biggest poisons in Twisted Wonderland, the "Poisoned Apple", has been found.

It's time to wake Neige Leblanche up.

◆◆◆

The Leblanche Tragedy happened almost two years ago when many haters got to harras Neige and his fiancée, [Name], who just announced their relationship. You were meeting already for quite a time, and knowing each other even longer. It wasn't easy to break any of you by hate.

But it wasn't also easy to live with people, who despised you with all their heart.

"It's alright," Neige whispered, his fingers combing the hair of his beloved. His voice was tranquil and soothing as always, almost by itself vanishing every bad experience. "It will be alright. I will make sure it will be."

"I know. And I am always thankful for that," you replied, cuddling him even more. Neige scent was another thing that hadn't changed over years; it was still the same aroma of wild, but soft flowers and heartwarming sunrays. Another wonderful feature. "I love you, Neige."

"I love you too."

That was the last discussion you had before the disaster happened.

And it started from no one else than Vil Schoenheit, who wasn't even aware how his actions will take a completely another turn than everyone expected.

◆◆◆

"Will it solve it? The sleeping potion?" you asked, turning the vial in your hands. It was no bigger than your little finger, and the potion there was taking only half of the space.

Not so long ago, around an hour, you found yourself invited by Vil to a tea party. You couldn't figure if he had been struck by your "help me" aura or was searching for a company, but you ended up in gardens, staring at the porcelain pot in which the tea was brewing.

It favoured the first meeting you two had: the tableware with the same, old-fashioned flowery pattern and the rich aroma of tea leaves of Vil's choice. Only a plate with sweets and fruits was something new—it was hard to convince Vil to bring anything sugary and even harder to make him try it. He finally ate a small (microscopical, in your opinion) piece of hand-made shortcake, but that was all you could do to let him appreciate the sweet energy shot.

"I cannot guarantee anything," Vil replied, watching you examine the bottle's content. "But it may work. With an emphasis on 'may'," he added, tearing his gaze away. Vil was your dear friend, and even if he didn't approve of your taste in men, especially your pick for a future husband, you were close enough to have him help you come up with a solution. "Use it as a last resort. I... am sure you will be able to find a better, safer way. For example, dumping your fiancé."

You giggled, but both of you knew his proposition was impossible. You could never leave Neige.

"Thank you, no thank you," you answered with a smile. The only thing that didn't let it last longer, were your problems. "Again, I am indebted to you. Thank you for being the best and the best prettiest in my life."

Vil puts the tea away, its taste suddenly feeling bitter and hard to swallow.

"...Well then. [Name], don't be reckless."

"I will try my best not to. I promise."

◆◆◆

You found a solution.

If you were the reason which made people attack Neige on social media and not only, why wouldn't you just disappear?

Not for eternity. Only for a month, maybe a few weeks, until the turmoil would silence. You and Neige could get married this way, inviting no one else than the closest of the closest people for the ceremony. Announcing your marriage and fake death wouldn't be that much of a shock as many could assume. There is a field called effective business, and everything can happen under that name.

I know how reckless is that, you were writing your thoughts on a paper. Once the dwarfs you invited to yourself saw the letter, they would give it to Neige. And you two would no longer have anyone who could undo anything. But think about it, Neige! If we may finally be together, isn't it a great chance?

You reassured him in the letter that you would wake up after few days. You also highlighted that he doesn't have to use your plan and let you two fight against the darker side of Wonderland together. He could just let you have week-long beauty sleep and with a fresh mind, try to solve your problems by less drastic measures: the press or announcements.

Maybe you were only overthinking and complicating the situation too much.

Your most loving fan, [Name]

You signed yourself and closed the envelope.

Your gaze returned to the sleeping potion. I am exaggerating, you thought. Your plans could fit into a script of a good film but in real life? What you were about to do felt... irrational and foolish.

Maybe you would change your mind if not the rush.

Once you heard footsteps on the floor and your friends, dwarfs, calling your name, you knew it is time to make a decision.

You quickly unscrewed the bottle and put it in your mouth. The sweet, sleepy fragrance with a hint of rosemary sent you to a sleep that devotedly resembled a death. The crash and sound of breaking glass as you fell to the ground immediately alerted everyone in the mansion. You couldn't hear the accelerated footsteps, screams, cries and commotion that was going on over you.

Before anyone could think to do something other than trying to wake you up and calling the hospital, the letter with your plan flew outside the window.

That night you broke two things: the promise you made to Vil and a heart of Neige.

◆◆◆

The death of [Name], the fiancée of the most adored man in the world.

Marriage cancelled? The mystery behind the death of [Name] [Surname].

A Dead bride.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

Neige scrolled through the media, each article made his heart ache. He ignored a great count of calls and didn't manage to appear at your funeral in time.

He was a broken toy, who just lost its batteries. He was a wrack of what he was before. Beautiful on the outside, blank on the inside.

Wearing a dark, a bit too oversized suit, he laid against one of the roadside trees. He closed his eyes, trying not to focus on any people, buildings or sounds except his breath. It was slow and steady until he remembered why he tries to calm down; then he would choke on his breath, tears falling from his eyes and trying to not lose balance.

"Would you like an apple?"

Neige wiped his tears in a sleeve and slowly turned around to see an old lady behind a stall. It was ruined and seemed unattended for years. The counter was doty, wood softened and tore off in big pieces by the wind and rain. Between beautifully decorated shops and cafes, this stall seemed to be a remnant that no one ever wanted to touch.

"Thank you, but I am fine." Neige replied in his polite tone, but the smile he sent her looked like nothing near 'fine'. "I am not allowed to take anything from strangers, but that is really kind of you!"

"Not just a bite?" the lady continued, putting an apple on the counter. It was brown, slightly green, and Neige would never guess it was an apple. Maybe more like a rotten apple, but no one would say that this apple was unfresh. Adversely, it contained freshness, but not of the common kind. "Wouldn't you like to join your lover?"

Neige held his breath.

"You mean... to die?"

"What I mean has no value. You will understand it the other way, even if I tried to explain," she replied. Her voice was squeaky as she repeated the question the same enigmatic way she did the first time. "So, would you like an apple?"

"No, thank you..." Neige bowed slightly. He hesitated, before trying his best to speak up. "I- I think [Name] would hate me dying. Only if she could understand this too..."

"Maybe she did" the lady replied. There was conviction in her voice, and Neige couldn't help but take her words seriously. "Or maybe not."

Neige hoped you did. How he loved you and how your death changed him from the happiest man in the world, the saddest one. He didn't know why you took your life and why he didn't notice anything before. He regretted spending not as much time with you as he wanted to.

But nothing could be done to change the past.

"I will get going," Neige said. He glanced towards the old lady, who smiled at him and showed some of her lacking teeth. "And... could you fetch me this apple, please?"

◆◆◆

Once Neige's gaze settled on your figure, the world was immediately forgotten.

He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears much more than silence who was your only companion.

No flowers, candles and golden ornaments of the church could divide Neige's attention, as his pace fastened with every step he made towards you. He didn't hesitate to lock his fingers with yours. He squeezed them, wishing his warmth could reach you.

"[Name]..." he whispered, getting his face closer to your sleeping face. He gently removed the lost strands of hair from your face, not believing that you won't wake up anymore. As much as he wanted to, no mage in Twisted Wonderland could bring the dead back to life. At least not in human's form. "I love you so much. T-too much, I think. How can I live without... my life?"

He gave you one last 'farewell' kiss on the lips, his body next to yours. "See you soon, [Name]."

His expression is the softest one he ever wore, as he reaches for an apple.

He bit it.

And then 'died'.

No sooner than the poison completely took control of his body, you woke up.

"Neige...?" you murmured, bringing your hand to his cheek. The anxiety mingled with your thoughts once you look around yourself. "We are... in a coffin?" You sat. It required effort, after not using muscles for a whole week. By the time, you took a break, you conjectured what happened. You jerked your head around and let your hands cup your lover's face. "Ple-please, please, Neige, don't do this to me. Please."

He didn't respond and the bitterness you tasted when you kissed his still warm lips confirmed that he didn't use Vil's potion. He was poisoned, and the amount left on his lips wasn't enough to take you to the same place as him. "Why didn't left anything for me? Neige..."

Your eye caught the glimmer. You went closer to notice the dagger, resting on the floor. It wasn't that visible as the weapon would be, and until you were a step from it, you could see how thin the blade was. As edge as sturdy.

The fear paralyzed you, as you came back to the coffin. But the remorse and the sight of your lover's dead body were stronger. Your whole body was shivering, a tremor affecting you more than you could ever imagine, making you go mad. Insane.

With one sharp move, you dug the blade into your chest, scared and closing your eyes.

"I am a fool."

By the time anyone arrives, it is too late to rescue you or stop the poison coursing through Neige's veins.

◆◆◆

In the morning sun rises, and everyone in Wonderland wakes up.

It is also the first time in two years since Neige fell asleep.

He can't feel anything. He can't sense the flaxen shirt the doctors changed him in. He can't get his mind through the haze, that has been floating around his thoughts just after he drank the poison. He can't answer the calls of the doctors and his friends, dwarfs, who are gathering around his bed.

But he can open his eyes.

And once he does, the silence is overcoming. When the fact finally sinks in everyone's heart, a great cheer flies across the room. Some of the gathered give Neige comforting touch or reassuringly squeeze his hand.

It takes him some time to realize what is happening, why is he in the hospital room, why people are crying around him and why you aren't the first one he sees once he wakes up. His habit of kicking you while sleeping was something you complained and teased him about. Even if he didn't wake you in his sleep, when he was getting up, his knee would always hit your arm or stomach, waking you up and having you buck him off the bed as revenge.

What he also can do, except for trying to stay awake and catching things his visitors chatter around him, is to try to remember. He didn't lose his memories! It just needs some effort to get them back from the darkest recesses of his mind! And then to regret it.

A whole wave of memories hits him like a tsunami, not leaving him space to breathe and see anything else than chaos, now replaced by the memories of you two.

The kisses. The promises. The vowes. The proposal. The struggles. The tenacity to get over your problems. The plan. The dead body of yours.

He doesn't have to turn around to know that you aren't in a hospital bed beside him. He remembered some of the talks of his friends when he was sleeping. Now everyone is waiting for him to return.

"Neige! You've finally woke up, huh!" Che'nya chippers, his voice cracking at last words. He is relieved about the news and only bad Neige's condition stops him from throwing himself at his arms and spreading the revelation to everyone... No, not even Neige himself can stop him from the latter.

Neige wasn't going to stop him. His mind still replayed the "finally woke up" part, as if the film stopped at the most painful scene, then broke and started to replay the scene once again. And again.

He turned his head on the side, letting the tears run down his cheeks.

He really can't feel anything.

"That," Neige manages to whisper under his breath. It is the first time he tries to say anything, and grievously struggles to put his words together. "is- is... so cruel." Everyone stared at him in silence, the same way they did when Neige and his dead lover were found. His cry brings tears to everyone's eyes, having many people bow under the weight of sorrow and put a hand over their lips to not let themself break again. "I didn't want to wake up..!"

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst neige #neige #neige leblanche #neige x reader #neige leblanche x reader #neige blanche x reader #angst #tw suicide #suicide tw

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clouds-rambles · 3 years

Text

Birthday Love Letter

Happy birthday to one of my main comfort characters. I love you so much Xiao and I’ll do anything for you.

You and Xiao have been partners of millennia, as much as Xiao dislikes the constant, yearly, birthdays he can’t say no to you or your gifts. Also suspend your disbelief for some of these things lmao

Pairing(s); Xiao x reader

Warnings; fluff, angst, hurt no comfort

Keep reading under the cut!

My love Xiao,

It’s a shame that I’ve broken millennia long tradition of bothering you on your birthday but as you’re aware our line of work can drive us apart for longer periods of time. And it’s likely you can’t really comprehend the pile of work I have right now in the office since Rex Lapis’ death. As much as he deserves retirement I am very tired of this constant influx of paperwork, I cannot wait to get back on the field again.

Anyway, enough about me. I hope you’re having a good birthday and I hope before reading this Goldet has already surprised you with the almond tofu you love to eat. I know, I know, you like making the tofu but take it as a gift from me while you wait for me to come back to Wangshu.

I have another gift for you but you can’t receive it until I get back from my work. I promise it’s worth the wait though.

You know Ganyu keeps asking about you. Is it true that you haven’t seen here in the better part of 300 years? As much as I don’t like nagging you, especially on this day, you should really visit her. She talks about you like the children of Liyue talk about their older siblings. As cute as it is in foresight, in hindsight I’ve heard the same story about you three times since being back. And the kicker? I was there when the thing happened. Please Ganyu I’m begging I know the story, I know it well I was there.

Zhongli also misses you, he mentions how often Ganyu and I visit but you’re yet to go. It makes me a little sad, even if you just stop by for a cup of tea I think that will make him more than happy. He’s a mortal now Xiao, I would hate to see you so distraught if you didn’t get to see him before his mortal life is over.

Enough about me nagging. I’ll be home soon enough, as much as you hate to admit it I love your hugs and I’m dearly missing them. You won’t say you are but I know how you melt into my hugs. It makes me want to love and cherish you forever more.

You know I remember your first birthday we celebrated, do you? We had known each other for 100 years, which in reality is a short time, but that was my first 100 years being blessed with mortality. Everything I did was fast for no reason. Not the point. I travelled up Jueyen Karst to pick you a bunch of flowers after taking a decade to pry your birthday out of you and I presented them to you. I remember when we first started really opening up to each other you told me about how you had chosen to preserve the flowers. Do you have them still, or have they decayed completely? I don’t understand much about flowers so I’m not sure how long flowers keep. Have you kept other things I’ve given you. I have, if you look in our room in the Inn you should find most of the things you’ve given me. That’s our little secret though hehe.

I should wrap up this letter before I get too engrossed and write you a books worth of letter.

I love you Xiao, and I hope you have a great birthday and I hope you liked the tofu I made. I’ll see you soon

[name]

The last letter that he had ever received from you five years ago to the day. Five more birthdays he hasn’t spent with you. Five years in terms of immortals shouldn’t feel this long, some centuries have blinked past before he can often not find memories of random centuries. So why have these five years been so painful? Xiao has been alone before, not in a long time but he has done it.

Just the weight of your death weighs heavy on his shoulders, your death is much heavier than the others he’s collected. He had known you the longest, fought the most battles with you, loved you the most, cherished you the most...

Xiao remembers when he got word of your death. Two weeks after his birthday the ex-geo archon himself turns up at the Inn. Zhongli had made it clear that if the adepti wanted to see him or not was up to them, so seeing the ex archon before Xiao was more than baffling.

When the news was delivered that you were assassinated in your sleep by an unknown assailment sounded like a sick joke. And in all honesty it was just a sick joke until your funeral a week and a half later.

So many people turned up wanting to wish the now dead adepti well wishes and comfort in the afterlife. So many flowers, so many people, so much chatter. As much as he hates the latter two Xiao endured the service wanting to say goodbye like everyone else.

Xiao didn’t notice himself hyperventilating until Zhongli had embraced him and helped him settle his breaths. Zhongli couldn’t find himself to utter words of comfort for the person that Xiao has spent millennia with. Yours and his relationship was beyond mortal comprehension since you had spent many hundreds of generations together.

Xiao shakes his head and wipes his eyes. If only he went to see you on his birthday. You were still alive on his birthday just tucked away in the harbour. If only Xiao’s aversion of crowds and people were what kept him away from you over the Rex Lapis crisis. If only he had-

The blaming of the self isn’t a healthy thing to do, Xiao had blamed himself for almost everything that resulted in your death within the first year of your death. There wasn’t much else to blame himself about.

Xiao had even contemplated joining you but was hit by the realisation that one you would want him to keep living and two if he dies there’s no telling what millennia long repressed, festering demons would unleash upon the country he has sworn to protect.

Xiao turns and notices that Goldet had snuck up when he was lost in self pity and thought and had left him some tofu, just how he liked it.

Maybe if he can’t be with you the least he could do is enjoy his birthday just like how you ‘made’ him do all these years.

Xiao cries tonight more than he wants to, and if Goldet heard his weeps, she doesn’t mention anything.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao #hurt no comfort #fluff #angst #im sorry guys

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

Text

Seasons of PD: Season 2: Will’s Back...and There’s a Bomb (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

Your age: 14

Jay's age: 28

Will's age: 30

"Spoke to Dad," Will said to Jay as the two brothers were sat in Jay's apartment sipping their respective beers. "Said you two barely talk. Said if it wasn't for Y/N, you probably wouldn't see him at all."

"I mean, he's not wrong." Jay shrugged.

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"Not really, but you should've been here. You should've been home. Mom was dyin'. You were off partyin'."

"You left," Will said as he set his beer down and leaned forward on the couch.

"I left to fight a war. I came home. And you know why that was?" he asked rhetorically. "It was because my humvee hit an IED and me and Mouse were the only two who survived! And because Mom was sick! I came back for Mom and I came back traumatized! Nothing bad even happened to you in New York and you left two fucking days after her funeral, man!"

Luckily Will hadn't been holding his beer or he would've dropped it right then and there. "Jay, I- I never knew it was so hard for you to come Stateside again."

"Forget it. You weren't there then, what makes me think you're gonna be here now? You're probably taking off in another few days anyway, am I right? Not even gonna go see Y/N? Even though she always wants help on her math homework from you and you don't even have the decency to answer her phone calls!"

"I'm sorry that I don't have my phone on me when I'm performing surgeries, Jay!"

Jay's phone rang, stopping the argument in its tracks. "Speak of the devil," Jay mumbled and then answered the call. "Hey, Y/N, what's up?"

"I don't understand this stupid homework," you groaned from your desk in your bedroom at home. "Why do I even need to know the equation of a line, anyway? It's not like I'm even gonna use it in life anyway."

"Y/N, like I've told you numerous times, I can help you if it's a single variable problem, but anything more than that, I forgot how to do it. Not really helping your teacher's case for actually using this in life, am I?"

"Yeah, not at all. I guess I'll just try and call Will...he's not gonna answer anyway, but I guess it's worth a shot."

"Wait, how about you FaceTime me?" Jay suggested.

"Why? You already admitted that you can't help me."

"Just do it."

"Okay, gimme a few minutes. I gotta switch devices."

"Oh yeah. You don't have an iPhone yet, only an iPod and a slide phone. Sucks to be you."

"Well, I'm sorry that I don't have a grown-up job and can buy my own stuff, Jay."

"And with buying your own stuff and having a grown-up job comes bills. So, be glad you can't legally work yet."

You rolled your eyes. "I'll call you back in a few minutes. And, whatever this is, better be able to help me with this homework since math is my first class tomorrow."

"It'll help. I promise."

"Hmmm, sure." Then, you hung up and switched to your iPod, and hit the FaceTime icon.

"You look like- you look tired," Jay said when he accepted the FaceTime call. He almost said that you looked like hell, but he figured he shouldn't say that.

"Thanks," you replied sarcastically. "You would be, too, if you've been staring at the same problem on your homework for the past hour."

"What's the equation you have to work with?" Jay asked.

"Y=mx+b," you answered.

"Yeah, vaguely remember that. Don't know what it means, just remember hearing it a bunch. Will, you know what that equation is and how to do it?"

"Will's at your house? I thought he wasn't getting back for another week."

"I thought so, too. And then I got called to a bar today because he was being stupid--"

"Hey, I was not stupid!" Will protested.

"Fine. He was being dumb and tried to break up a fight. And, now I think he's got a job at Chicago Med because he got fired in New York--"

"Y/N," Will butted in, "you said you needed help with your homework?"

"Yeah."

"Jay, can you please give me the phone so I can help our little sister with her homework please?"

"Uh, fine. She'll know why you left New York eventually," Jay said as he passed his phone to his older brother.

"Eventually. But not tonight." He turned to Jay. "Can you get me a piece of paper? I'd grab it but I have no idea where you keep stuff in this little bachelor pad of yours."

"Like you didn't snoop through my stuff when I was at work," Jay joked and stood up to get Will a piece of paper.

"Y/N, for Christmas I'm getting you a subscription to Chegg so you don't need to call me for this."

"I'm holding you to that one."

***

God, I hate running on the track. It's literally just running in circles and seeing the same things over and over, no variety in the scenery whatsoever. I wish I could run with Emma, but she's way faster than me, so she's ahead of me by like one or two laps. Uh, this song sucks! I gotta skip--

"Run lockdown! Run lockdown!"

What? Run lockdown? What is the high school cross country coach talking about? Maybe it's just something that the high schoolers have to do for their drills because I sure have never heard of that one.

But then, you saw Emma jogging toward the bathrooms a few yards away from the track.

What the hell?

You ran towards the bathrooms a few yards away from the track and didn't stop until you'd caught up with Emma. "What's going on?"

"No idea. Something about a lockdown."

Once all of you and your coach, Mrs. Rivers, were safely in the bathroom with the door locked, did you get any closure about what was going on.

"There's been a bomb threat."

"What? A bomb threat?"

"What?!"

"So we can't leave?"

"Girls, I need you to be quiet, okay? The police are looking into it, but for now, the campus is on lockdown and we can't leave here until I get the all-clear. The school's already notified parents, so if someone else is picking you up today other than your parents, you need to call them. Just ask and you can use my phone. Everything's going to be okay, though. We have nothing to worry about. We just need to sit tight until I'm told we can leave." Her phone buzzed and you all held your breath. "Looks like Miss G got stuck in the boys' bathroom with all the stinky football boys."

"What if we walk home?" you asked quietly.

"If you walk home, a parent or someone else will have to pick you up since they don't want anybody walking home because, as of right now, they have no idea who did this."

***

"How's your brother doing?" Erin asked as she and Jay were standing around the coffee pot in the break room.

"Pretty sure he's going to quit the new job he just got at Med even though it's his first day," Jay answered.

"What? He got a job at Med?"

"Yeah. Apparently, they were looking for ER docs and he got the job. But, for some reason, now he wants to quit. And, he was late today. Decided to bitch to me about only having almond milk and not having any regular milk in my fridge. Like, dude, you're staying with me. You can deal with a bit of almond milk."

"I don't blame him," Erin laughed. "Almond milk is disgusting."

"But it's better for you...and cheaper."

"Of course that's your reason for getting it."

"Halstead!" Antonio yelled. "Your phone's been ringing off the hook for the last minute. I think it's important."

"Be right there!" Jay quickly poured himself a cup of coffee and then rushed over to his desk.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Who was it?" Erin asked as she emerged from the breakroom, holding her own cup of coffee.

"Y/N," he answered as he fiddled with his phone. "Called me three times in the past minute."

"Any idea what it's about?"

"No, but I'm about to find out."

"Jay!" you whisper-yelled from the other end of the line.

"Y/N, what's wrong? Why are you calling me so much? Are you sick? Do you need me to--"

"There's a bomb."

Jay almost dropped his phone. "A bomb? Are you sure?"

At the mention of a bomb, everyone's heads snapped towards him.

"Yeah, we're hiding out in the bathrooms near the football field right now until they get the all-clear," you told him. "But, they can't let people walk home from school today and Dad's not answering and it's Will's first day, so I was wondering if you could pick me up?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can do that. Do you mind if I put you on speaker for a quick second?"

"Why? I'm fine Jay, really. Just needed to know if you can pick me up."

Innocent fourteen-year-olds, Jay thought to himself. Of course, she just called to pick to see if you'd pick her up. She hasn't grasped the gravity of the situation, and she's probably thinking that this is just another story to tell. Not that if there's actually a bomb at her school that she could be dead any second if it goes off.

"You're sure you don't want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"You can go."

"Okay. Just, listen to the adult that's in there with you, okay?"

"Okay, okay. Bye."

"Bye I love--" He was cut off by the beep which signaled that you had hung up. "--you."

"What's going on? A bomb?" Erin asked, but Jay was already making his way down the stairs.

"Sarge!" Jay yelled as he made his way to the front desk.

"Well, hello to you too, Chuckles. If you're looking for Voight, he's just meeting with a CI and should back soon," Platt told him.

"Sargeant, all due respect, I don't give a damn about Voight right now. I just need to know if you have any idea about the bomb threat at Central Chicago's high school and middle school campuses?"

"I know that they sent someone from bomb squad and some patrolmen over there to see if there's anyone who seems suspicious--"

"Why wasn't Intelligence notified?"

Platt's jaw dropped and she stared at Jay for a second before speaking. "Because last I checked, detective, those schools weren't in our district--"

Jay slammed his hand down on the desk. "Jay," Erin said and grabbed her partner's arm. "I need you to calm down for a second, okay?"

"I don't need to calm down, Erin," Jay spat. "I have every reason--"

"I understand, but being pissed at Platt here isn't going to fix anything. Go back upstairs and I'll be there in a second."

Jay ripped his arm from Erin's grip and stalked upstairs, not without slamming the gate when he was safely inside the Intelligence Unit's area of the 21st District.

"What's his deal?" Platt asked. "I have half a mind to write him up for insubordination for that little scene he just caused."

"Sarge," Erin started, "the school that called in the bomb threat, that's the school Y/N goes to, Jay's little sister."

"What? I thought that only elementary school kids were at school right now?"

"That's true unless there are sports practices."

"And Y/N's in a sport, so she's at school right now." Platt put the pieces together.

"Yeah. And, I know that family isn't supposed to work cases, but could you maybe make an--"

"Erin, go grab Halstead and Dawson, get down to the school. I'll send the information upstairs to Atwater and Ruzek and they can see what they can get. I'll also call Voight and tell him to meet you there."

"Thank you, Sargeant!"

Erin jogged upstairs and into the bullpen. "Jay, Antonio, we're heading to the school! Kev and Adam, Platt said that you're working the case from up here. Voight will meet us there."

"Copy that," Kevin answered.

Jay holstered his gun and was halfway down the stairs before Kevin even finished his sentence.

***

"Kev, what do we know?" Jay asked as they were driving over to your school.

"Uh, I pulled footage from the high school's office and apparently an unknown dude walked in, asked a question, and then walked out all in the span of less than a minute," he answered.

"Can you run facial rec?"

"Nah, not a good enough angle."

"Description?"

"Dude looks Indian or Middle-Eastern to me. He's got short, black hair. Some stubble, not a ton, but it's enough that you can see it even with the bad angle I got. He's kinda chubby, too. Wearing a tan jacket. That's all I got."

"Thanks, man. That helps. Anything from bomb squad?"

"They haven't located a bomb yet, so I guess that's a good sign, right?"

"It is if there's no bomb," Jay replied. "But, just because they haven't found it, doesn't mean there's not a bomb. Whoever the hell did this could've just hid it really well or do whatever a psycho does when they want to blow up a school full of kids."

Jay relayed the information to Erin and Antonio who were also in the car and then hung up his phone. "Any word from Voight or anyone else when I was on the phone?"

"No, you want me to go to the middle school or the high school?" Erin asked.

"Wherever you can get in."

"Jay, we have badges, we can get in anywhere."

"Middle school then. I'm assuming that's where Y/N is."

"Okay."

"Wait!" Jay exclaimed, almost causing Erin to slam on the brakes. "When I was talking to Y/N earlier, she said that she was in the bathrooms near the football field so we need to go to the high school."

"You're sure it's that field? Isn't there a football field at the middle school, too?"

"That's just a shitty practice field," he answered. "Anyway, the high school football field is the only one that has bathrooms near it so that spectators can go to the bathroom when they go to the football games."

"I shouldn't have to tell you this, Jay," Antonio started, "But you can't just burst into the locker rooms and try to get Y/N out of there. No parents are allowed in or out to pick up their kids. And, you're no different. You have to wait for the all-clear to get her out of there."

Jay hated it, but Antonio was right. No matter how much he wanted to get you as far away from this campus as possible, he couldn't until the bomb squad made sure that there wasn't a bomb anywhere near here. If his time in the Rangers had taught him anything, it was that one misstep, and the whole place could get blown up in a nanosecond.

Erin started to pull into the parking lot of the high school near all the cop cars, when one turned on their sirens and pulled in front of them, effectively stopping them from getting any further.

"I know you're worried about your kids," the patrolman said once Erin rolled down her window, "But we can't let anyone in or out until this is all sorted."

"We're not parents." Erin pulled out her badge. "Detectives Lindsay, Dawson, and Halstead from the 21st District's Intelligence Unit."

He looked at the officer next to him. "Desk Sergeant from the 21st said that there'd be some detectives coming." He pushed the button on his radio before anybody could tell him otherwise. "I got the detectives from the 21st here right now."

"Copy," the person on the other end said.

Jay wanted to jump out of the vehicle and strangle that patrolman with his bare hands. "Are you fucking insane?" he yelled.

The one who keyed his radio stepped out of the patrol car, and Jay did the same. "Are you Dawson or Halstead?"

"Halstead. But you, you must be new here because if there is one thing you absolutely do not do when there's even the mention of a bomb is key your radios."

"No offense, detective," the patrolman in the driver's seat started, "but everyone here has been using their radios since we stepped onto this campus."

"There's no bomb," Erin muttered.

They all knew what the patrolman's statement meant: if they had been using their radios the entire time they were here and a bomb hadn't gone off, then there was no bomb to begin with.

Antonio and Erin both stepped out of the car now.

"Who's your sergeant?" Antonio yelled.

"Why? Why do you care?"

"Because of what he just said! You can't key your radios when there might be a bomb, so I think your whole district might need to go back in for a mandatory re-training!"

"I'll call Voight," Erin said.

"Fucking idiots," Jay muttered as he pulled out his phone.

As soon as he was about to dial your number, a call came in from Kevin. "There's no bomb," Jay said as soon as he answered, not even giving Kevin time to tell him anything.

"I mean, yeah, I was callin' to tell you that the bomb squad just declared an all-clear."

"Thanks."

"How'd you know before we even got the call here at the district?"

"They were keying their radios the entire time and nothing happened."

"Yeah, that'll do it."

"We should be back at the district soon."

Jay hung up and made his way to the bathrooms.

You were sitting in silence with Emma next to you when a banging was heard coming from outside causing you to jump.

What if that's the bomber and he's got a gun and wants to kill us before the bomb can get to us? It was irrational, yes, but it was still possible.

"Chicago PD! This is the all-clear."

It was as if everyone in the bathroom let out a collective breath at hearing that there was no bomb or that the bomb had been dismantled.

"Alright girls, you heard the man, we are good to go," Mrs. Rivers said. "Let's head back to the middle school so you can grab your stuff and start getting back to your parents. Was everyone able to get ahold of someone to pick them up? Because I can bring people home if necessary."

All of you filed out of the bathrooms and into the crisp fall air. You were barely onto the sidewalk when you got pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

"Who the--" You looked up. "Hi, Jay."

"Oh my God, you're okay. You don't know how worried I was--"

"Jay, I'm fine," you squeaked out. "But please let go. You're crushing me."

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized and then let go, not without looking you over for injuries even though you promised him that you were in fact fine.

"50-21 George, 50-21 Lincoln, 50-21 Frank, and 50-21 Squad, assistance is requested at Chicago Med for a 10-34. Are you able to assist?"

Jay's eyes went wide and his breath caught in his throat.

"Jay? Jay?" you asked. "You gonna answer that?"

"This is 50-21 Lincoln, hold us down on that 10-34 at Chicago Med," Erin's voice said through the radio.

"Halstead! We gotta go now!" Antonio yelled.

"Jay, what's going on? Will's at Med. What's happening?"

"Come with me," Jay said and then started ushering you towards the car.

"Shit," Erin said when she saw you. "Antonio, you wanna go with Voight, and then me and Jay will drop her off at home? We can't exactly bring her with us."

"Yeah, good idea." Antonio turned to you. "Glad you're safe, kid."

You nodded as he jogged off to find Voight. Then, you turned back to Jay. "Why are you going to Med? Whatever it is, I wanna go with you because what if Will's hurt? I wanna go!"

Jay got in the passenger seat without answering you and you got in the backseat. Erin started driving to the middle school so that you could go get your backpack from your locker.

Once inside school and connected to the wifi, you took out your iPod and pulled up google.

What does 10-34 mean?

The answer almost caused you to drop your iPod on the tiled floor.

10-34 is a police radio signal that means that a bomb threat has been called in.

You ran to your locker and with shaking hands, put in the combination. How was Jay so calm? How was he so calm when you were silently freaking out? And, to make matters worse, he got to work the case while you were going to be stuck going home and just waiting to see if Will (and Jay for the matter since he would no doubt be in the vicinity of the blast zone) was safe, just waiting to see if your oldest brother, who you just got back, would make it out of his new workplace alive.

You hustled out of school and then got into the backseat of Erin and Jay's car. "There's a bomb threat at Med?"

"Who told you that?" Erin asked, turning around in her seat.

"I googled what 10-34 meant. Jay, please, I wanna go with you. I don't wanna go home!"

"No! I know you wanna make sure that Will's safe, and I do too, but you gotta understand that it's not safe for you there, Y/N," he pleaded.

"It's not safe for you to be there, either!" you argued.

"Y/N, I know you're scared, but I'm trained for this kind of stuff. You are not."

"Please," you begged as your lip began to tremble. "I-It'd be faster for you to just go to Med from-from here instead of dropping me off at home."

"She's got a point, Jay," Erin said.

"What? No way, Er! There is no way in hell she is going in there with us!"

"She doesn't have to go past the tape with us. Just somewhere close by." Erin turned back to you. "Would that make you feel better, Y/N? Being somewhere close by?"

You nodded as you wiped away a tear.

Jay sighed. "Fine," he relented. "We'll drop you off at Mama Garcia's to get your homework done since it's a half-block away from the hospital."

"Will's okay, right? You checked in with him?" you asked.

"I haven't yet, but I promise you when I do, I will text you. I just need you to stay calm and focus on yourself right now. It's no use worrying about Will when you can't do anything about it."

"That's what Mom used to tell me when I was worried about you when you were in Afghanistan. She always told me that it's no use worrying about it since none of us were there with you."

"See, you gotta trust what Mom always told you, kiddo. She was a smart lady after all."

***

"Tell me you're not in there," Jay spoke into his phone as he and Erin walked into the police tent-like structure equipped with fancy tech gear outside of Chicago Med's emergency department.

"I am," Will answered, causing Jay's stomach to drop. "Listen, the guy who blew himself up in here, said he had something worse than Ebola."

"What, like he's spreading it since he blew himself up?"

"Yeah, so essentially, every single one of us in here has been in contact with him."

"Who was he?"

"No idea. But do us all a favor and find out."

"Son of a bitch," Jay muttered as he pocketed his phone and entered the tent-like structure where a bunch of people, including the FBI, were sitting at computers.

"Talk to Will?" Erin asked.

"Uh, yeah," Jay answered, "he says he's in there. Apparently whoever the hell blew himself up in there was infected with something that he said was worse than Ebola."

"So if these people get out before we figure out what it is and if it's treatable, we could have an epidemic on our hands?"

"Exactly. Damn, Er. With that mind of yours, you should've gone to med school."

"Very funny, Halstead. You're looking at someone who barely graduated high school and didn't even go to the academy because being in the back of cop cars on the eastside for half my childhood was more than enough experience to qualify me for this job right here."

"I'm gonna start making some calls." Jay turned his attention back to the situation at hand. "Apparently traffic was a mess earlier and Voight and Antonio got called to headquarters to brief some higher-ups about this."

"Fat chance of them knowing anything right now. They've gotta just be trying to keep all the info away from the press." Erin's phone rang. "Speak of the devil."

"I'll call HQ and try to get some more back up to control the situation," Jay said to no one in particular.

***

You kept fiddling with your slide phone, just opening and closing it as you tried--and failed--to focus on your homework as you sat in one of the far back booths at Mama Gracia's. The news was of course playing on the tv in front of you and all the headlines were about what was happening at Med.

"Again we have word of an event at Chicago Med," the news anchor read from her script. "The CFD was able to contain the victims to the ER, but Ebola was mentioned."

Ebola? That was the disease that wreaked havoc on Africa last year.

You knew Will was a doctor and that he was smart, but if he became infected and it was in fact Ebola, what if he died? What if, since Jay was close to Med that he somehow became infected and he died, too? What if you lost both your big brothers in the same amount of time because of some psychopath who decided it was a good idea to blow himself up and put innocent people--innocent first responders--in danger.

"Ay, cariña. ¿A dónde vayas?" Mama Garcia asked as you stood up and made your way to the door, intent on exiting the small restaurant.

"¿Qúe? No entiendo," you answered. You had started taking Spanish this year, so you only understood one word of what she had said to you.

"Sorry, honey. Where are you going? Your brother said to make sure you stayed here."

You and Jay were both pretty close with Mama Garcia. Seeing as it was very close to Med, when your mom had been hospitalized for cancer years ago, you'd always come in here to get dinner. It was here that Mama Garcia had taught you all the words of the toppings that one could put on their tamales, tacos, or burritos, shocking your Spanish teacher when you told her you could tell her in Spanish exactly what you would put on your tamale when you learned about food in class.

"I'm just going for a walk," you answered. "I need some fresh air."

"Okay, don't go far," she warned.

Once out the door, you breathed a sigh of relief and started to walk towards Chicago Med.

When you got close enough, you saw a big white tent and a bunch of fire trucks. You crept to the side and started walking around the side of the building, where there were barely any people and only one cop to keep people at bay. You smiled at him and watched the scene in front of you.

You had seen of those firefighters before on a rare day that you were at the district waiting for Jay and one of them had to walk the firehouse dog, Pouch. He was super cute and all the firefighters were really nice and let you pet him!

"What is it Casey?" a deep voice bellowed.

You knew Casey! Well, you knew of him at least. He was the one that Hermann always said would write him up if he was gone too long with Pouch, so that was always the excuse he gave you when he had to leave the district to go back to the firehouse.

You couldn't hear what Casey said on the other end, but you could hear whoever this guy was talking to Casey. "Okay, we're gonna need to get some CO2 extinguishers inside."

"You mean you're out of fire extinguishers?" a woman next to the firefighters asked.

"Afraid so."

You turned on your heels and sprinted back towards Mama Garcia's. You were a girl on a mission.

"Mama Garcia! Mama Garcia!" you shouted as soon as you were inside.

"Y/N, ¿Qúe pasa?" she asked as she stuck her head out of the kitchen where she was preparing a bunch of batches of tamales.

"They're out of fire extinguishers at the hospital, do you have any that I can bring over there?"

"You are just like your brother," she said, "super sneaky."

"When you live with older brothers and have to steal their Halloween candy, you learn how to be sneaky, Mama Garcia," you joked.

"I'm not even gonna ask how you know this. There's one fire extinguisher back by the bathrooms and I've got two back here I can give you. Esperes un minuto."

You went and grabbed the fire extinguisher from the spot where it was stored in the back by the bathrooms and waited for Mama Garcia to come out with the other two.

"Thank you!" you exclaimed as you took the big bag from her which contained the two other ones. She had put them in a bag for you since they were super heavy.

You slung the bag over your shoulder and carried the other one in your hand. You knew you couldn't run because these were really heavy, but you knew you had to get to Med to help them. Both your brothers were there! And you'd get there, even if it was a lot slower than you had originally planned when you formulated this plan when you were sprinting back to the restaurant five minutes ago.

***

"Is there a detective Halstead here?" a patrolman walked into the tent-like structure and asked.

"That'd be me," Jay answered as he raised his hand and turned away from the computer screen he had been looking at.

"There's a girl outside, Y/N I think she said her name was. Said you're her brother and that she's looking for you. Said she might be able to help."

Jay turned to Erin. "Go," she urged him.

Jay followed the patrol officer to where you were standing and to say he didn't look happy would be an understatement.

"I thought I told you to stay at Mama Garcia's!" he yelled over the crowd of people and the firefighters shouting out orders to each other. "It's dangerous for you here!"

"I know and I'm sorry! But, I came here to see if Will was outside, and I heard that one firefighter talking into his radio thingy, and then the lady next to him said that they were out of fire extinguishers."

Jay crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was not impressed.

"So I ran back to Mama Garcia's and I grabbed these." You held up the fire extinguisher that you had set on the ground next to you because you had been carrying it for a while now and you thought it was going to rip your arm off because of how heavy it was.

"Let her in," Jay declared.

He grabbed the extinguisher from you and then made his way over to the firefighters.

"Chief!" he yelled. "I've got some fire extinguishers here!"

Chief Boden cocked his head to the side. "How?"

"Apparently my little sister was here and she heard Ms. Goodwin say that you were out of extinguishers. So, she ran to Mama Garcia's and these are from her restaurant."

You set down the bag that contained the two fire extinguishers. "Geez, those things are heavy!"

"That they are. Thank you for these..." Chief Boden trailed off, not knowing your name.

"Y/N," you answered.

"Well, thank you Y/N."

"You're welcome, Chief. Please get my brother out of there safely."

"We're doing our best. And, call me Wallace."

He nodded at Jay and Jay placed a hand on your shoulder to lead you back to where he had been working alongside everyone else who wanted to figure out what the hell had gone on in there. Behind you, you heard the other firefighters volunteering to go inside the hospital.

"You're not making me go back to Mama Garcia's?" you asked Jay as you walked.

"No," he answered. "It's gonna get dark soon and I don't need you sneaking off from there again."

"So, I'm staying here so you can keep an eye on me?"

"Precisely."

***

You were sitting in a metal folding chair, scrolling through your iPod--wifi courtesy of Jay's hotspot--when three people entered the tent-like structure.

"Detective," Sharon Goodwin said as she entered the area where everyone was working. Jay looked up from the computer he was working at. "The parents of..." she trailed off, allowing you to assume that these were the parents of the man who had blown himself up.

"Alright," Jay said as he walked over to them. "Please, have a seat."

His voice was monotonous, not soft like when he was talking to child victims and not angry like when he was trying to get a hardened criminal to break. His voice, it was just...there.

"Is there anything you can tell us?" he asked once the parents had sat down.

"He was a smart boy," the man started, "always nice...and helpful. This country has given us so much. How could this have happened?"

"He claimed to be infected with something similar to Ebola."

You felt like you couldn't breathe. So, what the woman on the news had said was true. Your brother--and everyone else in the hospital for that matter--could be infected with something similar--or god forbid, worse--than Ebola.

You couldn't take another funeral. You couldn't take losing another family member before you even learned how to drive, hell before you even got to high school.

Your mind flashed back to when you were four years old. Will was in college and Jay was in his senior year of high school. It was springtime and the weather was just starting to get nice out.

You woke up from sleeping and realized you were thirsty. Seeing as you didn't think it was super late yet, you hoped that maybe Jay or Will would still be up and they'd give you a cup of juice. They were on babysitting duty tonight because your parents had gone out for a date night and knew they wouldn't be back until the early hours of the morning.

With Beary gripped tightly in your hand, you walked down the hallway and towards the kitchen. You saw the living room light on, and then it was quickly turned off.

"Mommy? Daddy?" you asked.

The only light now was from the hallway and you were starting to get scared. Monsters would come out if it was too dark!

Suddenly, the light was flicked back on.

"Y/N, what are you doing up?" Jay asked as he walked towards you.

"I want juice," you told him. But, then you looked at what he was wearing. He was wearing one of those shirts that he had to wear when you and your mom went to his soccer games at other schools. Jay always said that if he didn't wear this type of nice shirt, that he and his team would have to run suicides. You didn't know what those were, but they didn't sound nice. "Why you not in your 'jamas?" you asked. "You have a game? In the dark?"

"Uh," Jay blanched. He couldn't exactly tell his little, very talkative sister, that he was sneaking out to go to a party. "Let's get you some juice."

"Okay!"

Jay got you some juice and started to take your hand to walk you back to your room and tuck you back in when you turned to look at him. "So you going to play soccer? Or you going to see Allie?" He always wore those kinds of shirts when she came over in one of her really fancy dresses. And, Jay would give Allie a flower bracelet, too!

Jay crouched down so he was eye-level with you. "Y/N, you know what a secret is?"

"Yeah! It's when you can't tell somethin' to somebody. Mommy said secrets are bad," you told him, while you swung Beary back and forth in your little hand.

"Well, they're not all bad," he told you. "So, if I told you a secret, you'd be able to keep it?"

"And not tell Mommy or Daddy?" He nodded. "I dunno. I don't wanna get in trouble and have to go in time-out, Jay Jay."

"You won't get in trouble, I promise. And, if you promise not to tell Mommy and Daddy and Will, I'll get you a big pack of Oreos."

"I get Oreos for not telling Mommy and Daddy and Will?"

"Yes, you get Oreos if you don't tell them."

You'd do just about anything for Oreos!

"Okay, I keep it a secret. Where you going?"

"I am going to a friend's house to hang out."

"Okay." You didn't know what was so bad about that, but you wanted to get your Oreos, so you'd keep your mouth shut.

"Alrighty then, let's get you back to bed. Because, if I'm not mistaken, princesses need their beauty sleep."

He tucked you back into bed and got out of the house safely. Now all Jay had to do was to entrust you with the secret that he had snuck and went to a "friend's house", which was code for going to a party.

You had almost fallen back asleep when your door creaked open.

"Y/N," Will whispered.

"Will?"

"Yeah, it's Will," he answered and flicked on your bedside lamp.

"Were you talking to Jay a few minutes ago?"

"No," you lied. You wanted your Oreos!

"Are you sure about that? Because I could've sworn I heard you say Jay Jay."

"You wrong," you told him defiantly.

"Oh yeah? Because I heard him mention Oreos."

"No, no Oreos. He only got me juice."

"So you did talk to him."

"No, I didn't."

"Then who got you the juice?" Will knew you couldn't pour yourself a glass of juice without spilling it everywhere. He also knew that the glasses were up high enough in the cupboard that you needed someone else to reach them for you.

"Uh, uh, the-the juice fairy!"

"The juice fairy, huh? I've never heard of her. Because I could've sworn I heard you ask him if he was going to play soccer and he told you that he was going to a friend's house."

"No, he didn't!" you protested.

"Tell you what, kiddo, if you tell me where Jay went, I will give you Oreos, too."

You furrowed your eyebrows. Will was gonna give you the same thing and Jay might be mad at you. You needed something more. "Oreos and Sour Patch."

"Deal. Sour Patch Kids or watermelons?"

"Kids," you answered.

"Okay, it's a deal. Now, where is Jay going?"

"He went to a friend's house. But he was wearing one of those shirts he wears when he has to go to other schools for soccer," you answered.

"He's going to a party," Will muttered.

"A party? Like my tea parties?"

"Something like that." Where the tea is beer, Will thought to himself. "But, now you have to wait for Jay to give you your Oreos, and then I'll give you your Sour Patch Kids and Oreos."

"Then I have two Oreos?"

"Exactly. Now, time to go back to sleep."

The next day, Jay gave you a family sized-pack of Oreos that you hid in your room. The day after that, Will came home from studying at the library with a family-sized pack of Oreos and a big bag of Sour Patch Kids for you that you also ended up hiding in your room. And, that night at dinner, Will told your parents that Jay had gone to a party. He was grounded until the end of soccer season. But, Will had successfully taught you how to blackmail someone.

"Y/N." Erin's voice broke through your memories of being a little kid and being taught blackmail by your oldest brother. "I need you to breathe for me. Can you do that?"

"W-What if Will-- What if he gets the--"

"Y/N, match my breathing."

She took a deep breath in and you tried to follow. It took a few tries, but your breathing eventually evened out and returned to normal.

"Will," you heard Jay say.

Before you could even think, you had jumped off your chair and were barrelling towards Jay. "Will? You're talking to Will? Is he okay? Is he gonna come out soon?"

"Y/N," Jay spoke calmly, "we just need to ask him some medical questions. Go back to where you were."

"Is he okay?"

"Y/N's here?" Will asked from his spot in the ED. "Why? How?"

"It's a long story. But, I'm gonna put you on speaker so that you can tell her that you're okay and then I need you to answer some questions."

Jay put the phone on speaker.

"I'm fine, kiddo. Really. You wouldn't want to see me right now anyway. You wouldn't want to come in here either because it smells really bad."

"You promise you're fine?"

"I promise. Now, I think I need to answer some questions?"

"Yeah, yeah," you heard Jay say as you walked back towards Erin. It was quiet in there now, as everyone was listening intently to what Will was saying.

Apparently, Antonio and Voight had looked up where this psycho worked and had figured out that he was the same guy who had walked into the high school's office earlier that day, which he probably did for a distraction. Now, they just had Will on the other end telling the infectious disease specialist in the ED all the chemicals that he had been working with so that she could test for them.

***

"Jay! Why'd you turn off your hotspot?" you whined as you pulled up google.

"Because you heard the bacteria and the strain and I know you. I am not letting you go down a google rabbit hole to look this up and try and figure out if Will's gonna die."

You sighed and put your head in your hands. Jay was right, of course, he was right, he's a detective for crying out loud!

"But what if Will's gonna die?"

"Y/N." Jay walked up to you. "He's not gonna die. He's gonna be just fine."

"But you don't know that!"

Jay's phone rang. "It's Will."

"Put it on speaker."

"It's not contagious," Will said.

If you weren't sitting down, you would've fallen to the ground in pure relief.

"So, you're good?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Everyone's good. Whatever he had, it died with him. I've got some patients that need work, but I'll be out soon."

***

Everyone from the hospital, the police, and the firefighters were all currently packed into Mama Garcia's. You, Will, and Jay had snagged a booth because your backpack and homework were still there from earlier.

"That's one good thing about being the middle child I guess," Jay stated after he had taken a bite of a tamale. "Not having to be the victim in one of these bomb situations."

You knew he meant, here, today, in Chicago and not overseas. And, you weren't about to wreck his joke by mentioning that.

"Yeah, but you had to work it," Will pointed out.

"Technically, you did, too, man. I think Y/N was the only one who got out of this without a payday."

Jay's phone rang. "Why's Dad calling me?" His eyes went wide. "Oh shit! I didn't tell him that I picked you up from practice." He threw his phone to Will, who narrowly caught it. "You talk to him!"

"Me? Why me?"

"Because he likes you better!"

"But he's calling you!"

You swiped the phone from Will's hand and answered it. "Jay? Do you know where Y/N is? I came home from work and--"

"Dad, it's Y/N. I'm fine. Jay picked me up from practice and I'm assuming you got a phone call about what happened at school and then he had to go to Med to work that case."

"Med? As in Chicago Med? Where Will just started working?"

"Yes, Dad, Chicago Med. And, we're fine. We're just a Mama Garcia's getting dinner."

"It's ten o'clock at night!"

"I know, and we should be home soon. I promise I won't complain about getting up in the morning."

"Okay, well, I'm glad you three are safe. Just next time, tell Jay to call me."

"Okay, Dad. Bye, love you."

"Love you, too."

You hung up the phone and passed it back to Jay. "He didn't disown me, did he?"

You laughed. "No, no he did not."

"Y/N, right?"

You looked up at the sound of your name to be met with a firefighter.

"Yes, and you are...?"

"Matt Casey." He stuck out his hand for you to shake and you did so. Despite hearing about him, you'd never actually met the lieutenant. "Chief Boden mentioned that you were the one who ran down to Med with all those extinguishers."

"Oh, it was no big deal," you told him shyly. "They're actually Mama Garcia's. I just heard you needed them, so I asked if I could run them over to you guys. It's her you should be thanking."

"Well, you played a big part in that. So, if you want a dessert, on behalf of me and all the guys at 51, it's on me tonight."

He handed you a ten-dollar bill. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. You made up for your brother almost black-tagging Severide."

"You did what?" Jay practically yelled.

As for you, you had no idea what they were talking about. "What? What's black-tagging?"

"You know what? Never mind," Casey said. "Thanks for all your help today, you guys."

"You were the ones who got them extra fire extinguishers?" Will asked, flabbergasted after Casey walked away.

"Yeah. Jay here wasn't too happy about seeing me over there, but when I told him why he calmed down a bit."

Erin slid into the booth next to Jay and he gave her a kiss.

"Ew, guys! Child in the room!"

Jay stuck his tongue out at you.

"I think he's the child in the room, Y/N," Erin said as she thumbed at Jay.

"So, Y/N, anything else interesting happen today? How'd you do on that math homework I helped you with last night?" Will asked.

"I did really well on it, but that's not even the craziest thing that happened at school today."

"Oh, yeah? Then what was?"

Oh man," you sighed. "Where do I begin? I think to tell you that story I'm gonna need to go get me some Flan."

You picked up the ten-dollar bill Casey had given you and slid out of the booth. If someone would've told you that you'd be buying Flan at Mama Garcia's at ten o'clock at night on a school night, you wouldn't believe them, but it would be plausible at least. The rest of the day? Well, you weren't sure that anyone would believe that you and Jay had been at the location of not one, but two bomb threats in the span of a few hours.

Once you got your Flan, you settled back into the booth. "So, it started out like any normal practice except we had to go to the high school to use the track..."

A/N: Guess who cranked out more than 5k words to get this finished today? That's right, me! Anyway, thank you for almost 8k reads! I know this technically wasn't a PD episode (It was Chicago Fire Season 3 Ep 19), but it had both Will and Jay, and the timeline made it so that it was season 2 of PD, so I thought it was fitting. Finally, please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think about this one!

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